


Blue Satin Nights, Khaki Days

by Neverever



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Sex, Angst, Awkward Flirting, Blow Jobs, First Time, Foot Massage, M/M, Misunderstandings, Playboy Bunny, back massage, night club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 22:56:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverever/pseuds/Neverever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To make ends meet, poor art student Steve takes a job as a cocktail waiter/Playboy Bunny at the retro Shield Club. He meets a mysterious man who could be either the man of his dreams or the man who is going to break his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Wiredoll's art (http://wiredoll.tumblr.com/post/56759527847/i-was-thinking-this-would-be-an-au-where-there-are)

Steve started questioning his life choices when Phil bent down and readjusted the fluffy bunny tail attached to the bottom of his leotard. Phil suggested helpfully that they would give Steve photographs and detailed graphics for how the costume should fit and look. “We care deeply about appearances here at Shield. Everything needs to be perfect. Our clientele does not expect anything less,” Phil pointed out. He turned Steve to look in the mirror. Steve was surprised at how he looked dressed up in a bright blue satin leotard, fishnet tights, white opera gloves, white bunny tail and five inch red heels. It was a good look but exposed some skin. A lot of skin, actually, and his rear end. 

“See where the tail needs to go – right over the tailbone and centered.” Phil then carefully regarded a pair of bunny ears and folded the tips over a touch. He indicated to Steve to lower his head. “The ears complete the look. Don’t let them fall off.”

“They fall off?” Steve asked. The ears really did pull the whole look together.

“Sometimes. It looks very bad if they aren’t in the right place. They can slip if you don’t fasten them down. Nice hair but you have a short cut – you might want to use bobby pins or some sort of clip to keep the ears in place.” Phil took a few photos with his camera. “There, you’re ready for work. Wait – what’s your name?”

Another waiter, Clint, had told Steve earlier when showing him the lockers that no one used their real name on the floor. He said something vague about warding off stalkers and other undesirables. Steve figured it played more into the fantasy that the club sold. He was not crazy about using a false name and was planning to bluff them out.

Phil, who was a very no-nonsense person, said bluntly, “We have a name tag for ‘Sapphire.’ That will be the name you’ll use. You’ll be shadowing Natasha tonight on the floor. She’ll show you where to wear the tag.”

Steve nodded and took a deep breath. He had been waiting tables since he was sixteen so working as a cocktail waiter at a night club should not be different than any of his other jobs. But Applebee’s did not require the wait staff to wear tight clothes that left not much to the imagination. And he was not sure how he would manage carrying the tray while walking on heels. He thought about his upcoming tuition bill and knew that he would find a way to make it work.

It all started at a party a few weeks ago. A graduate student friend of a friend Jane Foster cornered him at a party. She apologized for saying something but she had overheard that Steve needed a job. Her boyfriend Thor worked as a bouncer at a very exclusive club that was always looking for good wait staff. He should have guessed something was a little different with the club when Jane suggested that he wear a tight t-shirt to the interview. Steve was a bit surprised at the retro look of the Shield Club when he went to talk to the owner, Nick Fury. Shield Club was modeled on the old Playboy Clubs and all the wait staff dressed like bunnies. Fury liked Steve’s experience but liked Steve’s all-American-boy-next-door looks even more. When Fury offered him three times what he had made at his last wait job and promised that the tips were fabulous, Steve decided to set aside pride and wear the tail and ears. And the leotard that clung to his rear end and barely covered his nipples. Fury hired him on the spot and sent him off to Phil for paperwork and measurements. 

A red-headed woman dressed in black from head to toe with black rabbit ears was waiting by the bar and talking to the bartender. Steve assumed she must be Natasha. She looked Steve over and asked him to turn around. “I guess you’re presentable,” she said with a smirk. “You’ve done this before?”

“Not in heels,” Steve replied.

The bartender named Bruce laughed. “Clint tells us that you are a studio art major at Empire State.” 

“Yeah, I’ve got a year to go.”

“Well, ‘Sapphire’, I’m ‘Autumn’ on the floor tonight. So call me that. Let me show you around.” Natasha pushed him towards the kitchen.

Natasha was a great teacher. She showed him how to maneuver around the crowded tables with trays full of drinks and food, how to put up with the kitchen staff, and how to avoid grabby hands from the customers. She gave him suggestions on how to walk in the heels and keep the costume in place.

Towards the end of his shift, she cryptically said, “It’s up to you how you earn your tips.”

“What do you mean?”

“Fury doesn’t care what you do as long you keep upselling the customer on the alcohol. The VIPs can reserve special dining rooms and request specific servers. Even ask for special costumes.”

Steve actually blushed, realizing what Natasha was hinting at. “Um, ah, Phil said that the customers aren’t allowed to touch –“

Natasha nodded. “Those are the rules. In the main dining room. If you want to make more money, the VIP rooms are the place.”

Steve was not sure he was at all comfortable about that. He was barely comfortable in the costume he was wearing now. Natasha continued, “You’ve been great tonight, Steve. The customers already love you. And you look terrific. Flirt more and you could do really well here. Think about it.”

Since he was a new hire, he had the worse shifts and he was on his way home before the night really got under way. When he was changing back into his street clothes in the locker room, Clint told him that the Thursday, Friday and Saturday late shifts were the best. Clint and Natasha were staying on for a second shift. Clint wriggled into his purple leotard and said, “You should see me on Valentine’s Day. I dress up like Cupid.” Steve laughed. Clint continued, “This place is nuts on the major holidays.”

“Even Mother’s Day?”

“You don’t want to know. Catch you later.”

Steve checked in with Fury and Phil before leaving. Fury showed him his tips receipt for the night; he would get paid on Friday but Fury wanted to encourage him. Steve was shocked. He could definitely quit one of his other jobs since the money was that good. “Keep up the good work,” Fury said. “Remember how to put on your costume,” Phil added. On his way out, Steve waved to Thor managing the door. The exceptionally large man waved back with enthusiasm.

 

Despite his earlier doubts, Steve ended up loving his job at the club. He showed up on time, worked hard, liked his fellow waiters, got along with the kitchen staff, and made good money. And now freed from the convenience store job, he even had more time to do his school work and work on his art. He was working hard now to avoid taking out too many student loans so he would be mostly debt-free once he graduated. And he started thinking he could save up some money for a backpack trip through Europe during the summer.

It got even better when, after two months, Fury started offering him the occasional lucrative weekend shifts. He could now quit the pizza delivery job finally. Granted, the Saturday 11 am to 5 pm shift was not the best. But it sure beat walking up four flights of stairs to deliver three pizzas for no tips. It was one of the best days of his life when he called in to quit.

The other waiters discovered that Steve was willing to take on shifts at the last minute. That is how Steve found himself working his first Thursday late shift. One of the weekend regulars, Carol, had to go out of town at the last moment and Steve was more than glad to pick up her shifts. The night was proving to be busy with people spending crazy money on alcohol and food. The band and DJ were excellent. He was very happy and was working his way from the bar with a tray of drinks. He was already calculating how much he was making that night and how much he could save.

He looked up just in time before crashing into a very well-dressed and especially nice-looking customer. “Oh, I’m so sorry –“ Steve started. Then Steve noticed that the customer had the most beautiful brown eyes and amazing glossy dark hair.

The customer smiled widely. “Hi there, gorgeous. You’re new.”

Steve blushed deeply and was flustered and tongue-tied. He was suddenly keenly aware of the customer’s body and the space he occupied.

The man continued. “What’s your name?”

Steve smiled in return. “Um. ‘Sapphire.’ With an S.” He then gave the gentlemen a quick hip bump and a wink before he rushed off to serve his table. He thought he might have heard the man say something but it was swallowed up in the noise of the club.

After he handed out the drinks and tended to his table, he scanned the crowd looking for the man he had almost dropped a tray of drinks on. The man had lovely shoulders and a great smile. But Steve could not see him at all. Then he got very busy with multiple tables and complicated orders and time slipped away. To his great disappointment Steve never saw him again. And the evening ended abruptly when Phil sent him home early. The crowd in the dining room had thinned quickly and Phil had to be careful about costs. Steve sort of asked around the staff about his customer but no one could tell him who that man was.

Much, much later, Steve woke up in a panic at 4 a.m., suddenly remembering how he had winked at the customer and even touched the guy in some misguided attempt at flirting. Steve groaned. He must have looked ridiculous. Fury had been clear about no touching the customers. He really did not want to lose the job and worried that someone would complain. Then he remembered how beautiful the man’s eyes had been and nearly forgot his fear about getting reprimanded, or worse, fired. 

Maybe Steve would see him again. He really hoped he would.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony did not like retro. He loved modern, sleek, contemporary, new, 5-minutes-into-the-future things. Only Janet could talk him into going to a place like the Shield Club when Rhodey was in town. She insisted it would be fun and who didn’t like fun stuff? Tony acquiesced to her Mad Men fantasies because he could not honestly think of any alternative. He figured they would go for dinner and then he and Rhodey could go somewhere better later. On the other hand, he was always willing to try anything once. Except dying, and maybe one or two other things if he thought about it harder.

Rhodey and Janet were clearly enjoying themselves. The food was much better than anyone expected, the wait staff were professional and pleasant despite the costumes, and the music surprisingly modern. Tony could overlook the retro atmosphere for the most part when they were all having fun, especially since Janet’s downer boyfriend stood them up.

Looking around the club, Rhodey leaned closer and said to Janet, “I had no idea that they even had dudes dressed up as bunnies.” 

“I know,” she replied. “I just love this whole place. Look at the plates and glasses. So mid-century. So perfect! Did you see that blond dressed in the blue outfit with the red heels? Over 6 feet tall without the heels. Just stunning!” She nudged Tony, who rolled his eyes.

Tony had no idea who Janet was talking about until they were about to leave. He slipped off to the bathroom after settling the bill and Janet and Rhodey went to collect the coats. Not paying attention where he was walking, he almost collided with a tall gorgeous blond dressed in a skimpy bright blue leotard. He had to be Janet’s waiter. 

Tony was dazzled by the blue bunny’s sparkling smile and the odd name – ‘Sapphire’ – was very memorable. His heart unexpectedly fluttered when ‘Sapphire’ winked at him.

He tried to ask when ‘Sapphire’ would be working again, but the blond bunny never replied or maybe did not even hear him as he disappeared into the club. 

Tony was torn – he wanted to find that waiter but his friends were waiting. The only solution would be to come back another time.

 

By the time November started, Steve had been working at the club for over three months. He was helping Bruce fill and sort out applications for several different post-doctoral positions before starting his new regular Thursday night shift. Bruce was really hoping to get a position at Culver College in Virginia where his girlfriend worked. “There’s not much funding out there for the type of research I’m doing,” Bruce said. 

“What happens if this all falls through?” Steve asked Bruce.

He shrugged. “Private industry. Maybe Stark Industries – they have a great R & D division.” Bruce picked up a piece of paper to scrutinize it before pushing it over to Steve. “I don’t think this one belongs to me.”

Steve said, “Oh, that’s where that went.” He folded up the paper and shoved it into a pocket. “The Maria Stark Foundation has a yearly competition for young artists. I never had time before to enter. My professors are really pushing me to submit a couple of pieces this year.”

“Hey, that’s great. You should do that,” Clint said as he came up to the table, and clapped Steve on the shoulder as he sat down. He had shown him some of his drawings and acrylic pieces and Clint had been impressed. A little overly impressed Steve thought. “By the way, you should talk to Phil about a new leotard and shoes for the holidays before the rush.”

Steve frowned. “I need another uniform?”

Bruce said, “It gets crazy around here. Fury usually lines up special parties for the weekends and other promotions through Valentine’s Day.”

Clint added, “More events means a lot of extra shifts. And a lot of people reserve the VIP rooms for parties and so on. An extra uniform comes in handy.”

“I could just get another blue leotard,” Steve said.

Bruce glanced speculatively at Steve. “I’d suggest going with red. And maybe gold heels and gloves.” 

“Why? Who on earth would like that?”

“Look at Artist Boy having an opinion on color finally. Red stands out. If customers don’t forget you, then the tips will be great,” Clint said. “I told you about the Cupid costume. Worked like magic last year.” Clint had once told Steve he was weighing whether he wanted to go back to competing in archery on the national level. He still had well-muscled arms and back from years of practice and competition.

Once family dinner was over, the club started coming to life as the staff started to prepare for the night’s customers. Executive chef Maria ran the back of the house like she was the general of a Special Forces team. She walked the wait staff through her specials for the evening, emphasizing the more expensive dishes. Then maître d’ Phil inspected the wait staff and fixed Clint’s tail and ears for the first time of many that night. Phil then gave out the floor assignments and turned them loose.

Natasha said to Steve, “I think Clint deliberately doesn’t put on his tail and ears right so he can get Phil to adjust them.”

Steve laughed. Then he said, “Bruce thinks I should get a red leotard.”

“Oh, you should. The brighter the better. Maybe pink though? Good luck and call me if you get in the weeds.”

Steve kept an eye on his tables. His section was off to the side, not the best location in the house, but he was okay with that. Small tables, private area could mean customers spending a long time ordering drinks. Or not. But Steve preferred to be optimistic about his chances for a good night.

 

The maître d’ Phil or something like that seated Tony at a remote table of the club away from most of the action. Before he could ask to be moved, Phil said that ‘Sapphire’ would be his waiter that evening. Tony suddenly felt lucky – this could be the waiter he wanted to see. He swore he had heard the waiter say he was ‘Sapphire.’ He impatiently looked through the menu. 

He was not disappointed. Tall blond and gorgeous showed up and asked him if anyone would be joining him tonight. “Hi there, beautiful,” Tony said. ‘Sapphire’ smiled shyly and seemed to recognize him from their brief encounter a month ago. “It’s just me tonight, flying solo.” 

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Bourbon.”

“Any particular brand? Otherwise, it’s the house brand and you look like –“

“I have expensive tastes?”

“Like you have preferences,” the bunny redirected. He smiled again.

“Really? I bet you say that to all the boys.”

‘Sapphire’ said a little incoherently, “I, uh, not sure ...”

“Sweetheart, I’ll leave the decision up to you.” Tony said teasingly.

“Be right back.” Tony could not help but stare at Sapphire’s ass as he walked off to the bar. It was a great ass, marred only by the bunny tail obscuring the whole view. 

An impossibly long time passed before ‘Sapphire’ returned with his drink. Although it was likely only a few minutes. The club was not close to being busy and Tony was the only customer in ‘Sapphire’s’ section. And Tony was willing to pay whatever it took to keep it that way. Tony thanked him for the drink. Taking a sip, he took a long look at Blue Eyes and everything he saw was simply striking from eyes to shoulders to legs. “So, ‘Sapphire’?”

“That’s the name,” the gorgeous waiter said.

“I seriously can’t call you that. What about Blue Bunny?”

“Hmm, sounds like frozen ice cream.” The bunny asked in a more sultry tone, “Might I ask your name?”

“ ‘John Smith,’ just as real as yours,” Tony shot back. If the waiter was not going to budge on the name, he’d play the game right back.

Tall Blond Gorgeous regained some composure. “Good evening then, Mr. Smith. Can I explain anything on the menu? Could I interest you in hearing about the specials?” 

Tony nearly blurted that he’d like to order some blue bunny on the side, or something equally as stupid. But he restrained himself. He was so much better than that.

“Specials, please?” He finally choked out with a longing look up at Tall Blond and Sexy. 

The waiter stammered out, “Ah, um, we have a fish dish, and then there’s a kobe beef thing and then there’s another thing …”

Seeing how easy it was to unsettle Blond Bunny, Tony knew now he had the upper hand. “You have excellent taste,” he murmured, sipping his drink. “Surprise me.” The blond did not even try to reply just silently nodded. 

Returning to the table, the waiter put a basket of rolls on the table and then knocked over a glass of water. He was alarmed and started cleaning up quickly. “Please excuse me,” he stammered. Tony could not object since in his efforts to fix the problem Sexy in Heels brushed against him. The soft brief touch was electric. Blondie blushed and pulled back. “I’ll be right back.”

“No, stay. See, it didn’t spill that much.”

Tall and blond laughed a little ruefully. “I am so sorry – I’m usually much more professional that this.”

“But you never met me before.” He rubbed his thumb over Blondie’s hand.

Gorgeous looked around the club, rubbing the back of his neck. Tony smiled his best smile and leered at Blondie. And with that, Tony took his hand and rubbed a circle into the palm. “I bet I can tell you your future,” he purred.

“My future? I think my future involves serving you your dinner.” But the waiter pulled away reluctantly. Tony could tell.

It turned out that ‘Sapphire’ ordered the kobe beef special. “It’s the best dish tonight.” And Tony talked him into sitting and talking with him while he ate. Tony told him that he worked in consumer electronics for the most part and was pleasantly surprised that BB (that’s what he decided to call his big beautiful bunny friend) was actually interested in hearing about his work. Then BB told him that he was an art major at the local university and would be graduating next semester. And all of a sudden, dinner was over.

BB stood up and leaned over Tony and said low and smoldering, “Will that be all, Mr. Smith?”

Tony went weak in the knees and parts of his anatomy snapped to attention. It was time to go. “Just the check, BB.”

When Tony asked about his coat, BB walked him over to the coat check. “So what’s the deal with the ears?” Tony asked. He reached up to touch them.

Steve ducked his head away from Tony. “Stop it,” he laughed. Tony loved that laugh and wanted to hear more.

Tony reached up again and pulled down one of the ears. He then pushed the other ear to the side. He looked at his work. “You look like you’ve had a hard night.”

“Shield Club Bunnies are always dressed polished and perfect with ears upright and tail perky,” Steve intoned seriously. He tried to push the ears back into place.

Tony leaned in closely, “Not if I have anything to do with it.”

Steve jumped a little. “Ah. We’re here. At the coat check. Where I’ll get your coat. Here. The coat check.” Tony was a little thrilled to see a flustered Steve. It was inspirational.

Steve opened the door and Tony followed. Before Steve could shoo him out, Tony pushed him against the wall and kissed him. Steve kissed back soft and hesistant and then opened his mouth under Tony’s pressure. He licked up into Steve’s mouth, sucking, taking, biting, gasping. Steve gave back as good as he got. Tony grabbed his ass and pulled him closer. Steve groaned. Tony caressed his stomach and chest, feeling the solid muscle under the slinky fabric. Breaking off the kiss, Tony asked, “How does the leotard stay on?”

“Hope, prayer and doubled-sided body tape.” Steve chased after Tony’s mouth and starting kissing again, no longer hesistant.

“When do you get off tonight?”

Steve sighed. Maybe even regretfully. “Real late. And I have class and things in the morning.”

“That’s a no, then?” Tony asked teasingly. He kissed and nipped at Steve’s chin and jaw. Steve looked wonderful with wet and kiss-swollen lips, his bright blue eyes shining.

“Ah. Yeah. I gotta pass.” Steve stood up and started adjusting his costume and ears. “How’s the tail? It’s got to look right.”

Tony checked out the tail, cast a lingering look over Steve’s ass, and gave a thumbs-up. And while he put on his coat, he said, “I guess I’ll see you around.”

Steve smiled back widely and warmly. “I’m around on Thursdays and I’m going to start more shifts on the weekend soon. Not working Tuesday anymore.”

Tony filed away the information for future use and started plotting his next visit as he watched Steve go back to the main dining room. He had so many ideas about what to do with his new friend.


	3. Chapter 3

Long early morning runs usually cleared his head but Steve had too much on his mind these days. It was December and he had final projects and papers due. Work was getting even busier. He was struggling with his artist statement for the Maria Stark Foundation Young Artist Competition. He prided himself on working hard and giving it his all in school, at work and with his art. But he was never going to be productive at all if his wandering thoughts always drifted over to thinking of Mr. Smith, his clever eyes, the way he kissed him, the feel of his tongue against his lips, and the touch of his hand on his ass.

Steve had been surprised by the kiss in the coat room. He was not in the least proud of how he acted that night and it took forever to straighten out his bunny ears. Yet kissing Mr. Smith had been wonderful. He kind of wanted to do it again. But he had not seen him in more than two weeks. Steve made up excuses about him traveling, being involved in a demanding project, or just being plain busy. In darker moments, he worried that Mr. Smith was not interested any longer.

Then Steve finally saw Mr. Smith again a week before Christmas. A little part of him whispered hope that Mr. Smith would try something. He set Mr. Smith’s drink on the table and stood a little closer than he should have to ask for his order.

“Oh, I’m not Mr. Smith tonight. Call me Warren Buffett.” 

Steve laughed. “You can’t be Warren Buffett. You don’t sound like you’re from Nebraska. And you’re not even 30.”

“You know how to flatter a guy.” Mr. Smith looked up and gave Steve his 1,000-watt smile. “Turned 30 last year. Try Bill Gates.” Before Steve could protest, he offered other names. “Paul Allen? Tim Berners-Lee? Sergey Brin?” Steve had only a vague idea about who any of those people were. Smith’s brown eyes twinkled a little and he said, “How about Tony Stark.”

“Tony Stark?”

“Billionaire owner of Stark Industries. Third smartest man in the world and the greatest living engineer. Well known philanthropist.” He winked.

“Um. Okay.” Steve racked his brain. The name was familiar in a gossip page sort of way but he didn’t remember much of what Tony Stark looked like or really anything about him. “Mr. Stark, what would you like for dinner tonight?”

“Tony, please – Mr. Stark makes it sound like I’m ancient. Now, handsome, what do you recommend?”

 

Later, during prep for the night’s service, Steve was cutting up lemons into wedges and overheard Natasha showing a new waitress around. “And over there is Steve,” she said. “You can rely on him for anything.” The waitress whistled low and asked, “What’s it like working with Mr. Cheesecake?” Nat darted a quick look in Steve’s direction and replied, “Oh, sorry, honey. Steve bats for the other team.”

Then Bruce chimed in, “He’s a great guy – we’re trying to find him a nice boy. So if you know anyone ….”

Steve turned red all the way to the tips of his ears. He really appreciated the friends he made at work. Clint dropped by his apartment on occasion to watch a game with him and Sam. Steve had gone to Nat’s aikido class. Bruce coached him through his artist’s statement and competition entry. And they all had helped the bouncer Thor move two weeks ago. But really, Steve would rather his friends didn’t try to set him up. It was all very embarrassing. It’s not like he didn’t want to find someone special or have a relationship – at first he’d been too shy and scared to do anything and then he had been too busy to meet anyone. And now he was just sort of clueless.

And then there was Mr. Smith - or rather, Tony. Tony confused him. He came early for dinner at the start of Steve’s shift but always went right after dinner, and even left once when he could not be seated in Steve’s section. Admittedly, the club was busy and they were not paying Steve to wait on one customer. But Steve’s heart fluttered a little whenever he caught sight of Tony’s thick wavy hair at one of his tables. He was thrilled when Tony looked him over and smiled at him like he was the best thing in the whole world. And Tony flirted with him, though Steve was starting to think that flirting came as easily to Tony as breathing, so it might mean nothing. 

Tony radiated energy and life even when sitting still. He fascinated Steve who wanted to capture him somehow on paper. Tony talked about his projects, his work, his friends, people he had met, people he didn’t want to meet again, and whatever else came to mind. Steve was always vaguely disappointed when he left. He felt more disappointment that Tony had not even tried to fiddle with the bunny ears or touch the tail. He wondered what would happen if he pushed a water glass by accident into Tony’s lap. Or maybe he would have to bend over right next to Tony to pick a fork or knife off the floor. Steve could be professionally friendly, maybe Tony was as well. Steve concluded he was reading too much into things and the kiss he remembered too fondly must have been an accident.

 

Nat asked Steve for helping in organizing the club storage room before one of his shifts. He looked at the pile of assorted pirate accessories and clothing she had tossed on a table. “Seems to be a popular costume,” he observed.

“Pirates go over well. Although I could do without some of the pirate jokes.” She sighed and dumped the lot into a box. “I wore worse when I was a ballerina.” She had told Steve that she came to New York for a job as a dancer but an ill-timed injury had ended that plan. She had worked for Fury and Phil at other clubs since then. “Have you heard from Phil about any VIP shifts?”

“I did one last week.” He was very pleasantly surprised by the extra money for the shift.

“Fury says business has been picking up,” Natasha assured him. “And Clint started off slow too. He looks great as a pirate – customers just didn’t know that.” 

Then Phil shouted into the room, “Steve, are you free Wednesday night?”

Steve ran over his schedule in his mind. A Wednesday night shift meant a late night but he didn’t have anything the next morning. “Yeah.”

“Then I’m scheduling you a VIP room shift. Nothing special. Just show up in the usual uniform.”

 

Steve adjusted his uniform, fluffed the tail and pushed the ears into place. The VIP rooms were located on the second floor of the club; they had windows to the outside on one wall and were furnished simply with a dining table, chairs, and a sideboard. He waited patiently for his customers at the fully stocked bar in the corner. 

Tony strode in. Steve’s mouth went dry. He was dressed impeccably as usual in a dark grey suit with a purple shirt and gray tie. The suit showed off his trim form and nice shoulders. “Hello, BB,” he said warmly.

Steve knew Tony’s favorite drink and offered it to him. “Good evening, Mr. Stark.”

Tony accepted the glass. “So this is the VIP room? It’s, uh, different than I expected.”

“It’s a private dining room.”

“So how does this work, beautiful?” Tony noticed the dumbwaiters in the side wall. He started poking at buttons and opening the sliding doors.

“We serve the same menu here as the main dining room and there’s a wet bar. If you want a particular wine, though, I can request that it be delivered. Otherwise we won’t be disturbed. I’ll be in the room whenever you need me.”

Tony leered at him. “Oh, I don’t think it’s a question of need whether you stay or not.”

Steve suddenly felt unbalanced. “Would you like to order anything to start?”

“I’m a growing boy. And I am hungry.” Tony smiled at Steve and brushed his fingers against his arm. Steve shivered at the touch. “Maybe oysters? Or something with asparagus and truffles?” Tony batted his eyelashes.

Steve sputtered and coughed. “I think I can recommend something.”

Tony took his suit jacket off and draped it over the back of a chair. Then sat down with a flourish at the table. He took out his phone and was checking his messages while Steve punched the order into the service computer. “Can I buy you dinner?” Tony asked suddenly.

The usual rules of the club did not apply to the VIP rooms so having dinner with Tony was allowed. “I’ve put in the order for both of us.” He felt flushed and nervous.

“Hey there, gorgeous, come sit with me,” Tony said alluringly and he patted the chair seat next to him.

The food was shortly delivered to the room through the dumbwaiters. Steve had ordered a couple of appetizers, a dinner special for himself and the usual steak for Tony, and two types of chocolate desserts. They talked while eating about Tony’s upcoming trip to Asia and Steve’s current art project. Tony’s hand constantly brushed against Steve’s hand and arm when he reached for the rolls, salt shaker, an extra napkin and the water pitcher. Tony drank a lot of water.

When Steve got up to return dishes to one of the dumbwaiters, he finally noticed Tony checking out his ass. Maybe Tony was interested in him after all. He blushed and tried to walk back to the table seductively.

Tony laughed. “Ah, BB, you’re trying too hard. Come here.”

Steve slid down into his chair and Tony directed him to put his foot in Tony’s lap. Tony then took off Steve’s red patent leather high heel. Tony started to rub the top of his foot sensuously, his deft fingers working his way down to Steve’s toes. He smiled. “I’m sure your feet are sore from standing all that time.”

Steve loved how Tony was now rubbing in small circles over the heel and the ball of the foot, applying firm pressure with each pass. He gasped. “You have no idea.”

Tony stroked Steve’s ankle. “You are such a hard working boy, sweetheart. Let me treat you right,” he said low and yearningly. He massaged the arch with his knuckles, looking up at Steve through lowered eyelashes. And Steve felt very aware of how close Tony was, how wonderful he smelled, and how arousing his hands felt on his foot. He licked his lips and watched Tony continue to do his magic.

“I’ve got a hard job …” Steve started. He blushed.

“I bet you do,” Tony said with a laugh. He massaged each toe as best he could through Steve’s fishnet tights. Then he pulled hard a few times on each side of Steve’s foot. “Just relax, beautiful. Now let’s have the other one.”

Steve reluctantly put his foot down. Tony had to help him lift the other foot and leg. Steve could feel himself harden, his cock becoming thick and alert. Tony started the massage again. “Just imagine what I could do for you.” Tony teased.

“I have a lot of imagination,” Steve choked out. Tony was so beautiful with his warm olive skin slightly flushed. Tony’s lips were wet and full. Steve longed to kiss him, to run his fingers through the thick wavy hair, and to see what was under the fashionable clothes.

“Really? After such a long hard day, you have the energy?” Tony paused, Steve’s foot gripped lightly in his hands. “I could do this better without the tights, you know,” he said suggestively. Then he finished kneading and rubbing the second foot. He caressed his way up Steve’s calf.

Steve could feel a cramp coming on and suddenly put his foot down. He felt a little bereft without Tony’s warm touch.

But Tony just picked up Steve’s hand to play with his fingers. “Hmm, I wonder how you keep your gloves so clean.”

“I work very carefully,” Steve whispered. Tony began to slowly peel the glove off down Steve’s forearm. “The real trick is, ah, putting them on,” Steve admitted. Tony finished pulling the first glove off and started working on the other one.

“You won’t need to worry about that tonight, if you’re a good boy.” Tony put both his hands on Steve’s thighs and caressed with his thumbs. Steve could not talk and his breathing became shallow. Tony was so close Steve could feel his breath on his skin. Steve glanced down at Tony’s mouth. And then Tony kissed him, his tongue pressing for entry. Steve parted his lips and Tony kissed a little harder, pressing deeper, sweeping his tongue inside of Steve's mouth.

Then Tony pulled back and motioned for Steve to stand up. He maneuvered him towards and then pushed him against the wall. Steve felt boneless and willing to do anything. Tony kissed his lips, then his jaw, under his jaw, his neck, and the sweet spot between the neck and shoulders. He whispered how beautiful and sweet Steve was. He cupped Steve’s erection with his hot palm. Steve moaned. Then Tony reached down between Steve’s legs and undid the snaps of the leotard and pushed up the leotard up. Steve kissed back fiercely and messy.

Tony ran his fingertips lightly across the tops of Steve’s tights before hooking his hands into the waistband and pulling them down to just below the swell of Steve’s ass. Then he groaned in frustration. “Honestly, a jock?”

Steve laughed a little. “I need the extra support.”

“BB, I just want to get into your pants,” Tony whined. “What else am I going to find down there?” Tony tugged down the jock and then was able to feel Steve. “Ah, finally found it.” Tony went down on his knees and quickly took Steve’s cock into his mouth. Steve’s head fell back against the wall and his legs opened more. He moaned as Tony began to tease and lick slowly down his length. He grabbed Tony’s head and twisted his fingers in his dark hair. It felt so good and he did not want it to stop. Ever. He panted and his hips started to thrust minutely. Tony pushed back, lifting his hands to Steve’s hips to hold him in place. Tony increased his suction as he took Steve deeper. Steve came suddenly, shuddering and groaning. Tony pulled off after a moment and staggered to his feet, his hands reaching frantically to unzip his pants and release his pent-up erection. Steve reached out to wrap his hand over Tony’s and helped to finish him off with a few swift and hard pulls.

They stood together, panting, leaning against the wall, entangled in each other. Then Tony smiled up at Steve and traced his jaw with a finger. “You are so gorgeous when you come.”

“With or without the ears?” Steve deadpanned.

Tony burst out laughing. “My god, those ears didn’t move at all. How do you do it?”

“Trade secret.” Steve smirked.

Tony laughed harder, his face flushed and eyes brilliant. He kissed Steve lazily, entwining his fingers in his hair. Steve could almost taste himself on Tony’s lips and tongue and caressed Tony’s ass. Tony asked, “Seriously now, is your shift over? I could take you home.”

Steve sighed. “No -- I have to clean up here and other stuff. It’ll be two hours or more before I can go.”

“I can wait for you.” Then Tony’s forgotten cell phone rang. He went over and checked it. “Damnit, I have to take this call. First free night in a long time and then this has to happen.” 

Steve cleaned himself off and readjusted all his clothing. He went over his mental checklist for finishing up service. He remembered the bill and was suddenly very uncomfortable about presenting it to Tony. He always paid in cash and Steve did not want to handle it after what they had just done. Tony was talking furiously back to the phone, clearly angry with whomever was on the other end. Then he ended the call and looked over at Steve regretfully. “I’ve got to go. Usually I can skip out of things whether I’m needed or not. But this is an emergency.”

Tony pushed his hair back into place and thanked Steve for the towel for clean up. But his mind was clearly not in the room or on Steve anymore.

“I’ll settle the bill on the way out.” He kissed Steve on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon, hot stuff.” Then he purposefully walked out of the room, already tapping out texts.

Later, as he was bussing dishes and cleaning up the room, Steve realized he should have asked Tony for his number. He would have to keep hoping that Tony would return.


	4. Chapter 4

A couple of days later, Fury called Steve into his office. Steve walked in, nodded to Phil and sat heavily down in the chair across from Fury. He thought that this could not be good.

“Son,” Fury said gravely, “You seem to have picked up an admirer.” 

Steve understood exactly whom Fury was talking about. 

“Is he bothering you?” Fury asked.

“Um, no,” Steve said. “Tony’s just a regular customer. He’s, uh, harmless.”

“Be careful, Mr. Six-Foot-Two, Eyes-Of-Blue. Even you could get in trouble with the wrong person. If that guy ever does bother you, be sure to tell Phil or Thor – they’ll make sure that guy never comes back here again.”

Steve glanced over at Phil, who nodded. He could probably encourage Tony to meet him elsewhere.

Fury then stated very firmly, “Do not do anything, Steve, that brings the police around here. I run a clean operation but I don’t need them poking into every corner, you got me?”

He nodded. “I understand.”

 

At Phil’s request, Thor showed Steve where the panic buttons were in the VIP rooms. Thor said, “Just remember if there’s anything you can’t handle, give me a call.”

“That’s what Phil said,” Steve answered. Phil had also reminded him that they used fake names to avoid the creepers and stalkers and why Fury had a car service for the late shift wait staff.

Thor looked around the room. “You would not believe what people get up to in this place, dude. Crazy stuff.”

“Really?” It turned out that Thor had the best stories and Steve ended up spending the better part of the afternoon down by the bar listening to Thor and Bruce talk about the VIP rooms.

Before Steve went to change and get ready for service, Bruce said a little darkly that Fury liked things neat, clean and shipshape in the main parts of the club and could care less what people did in the VIP rooms even if that meant that the clientele was on the shady side. “Nat and Clint will always work for Fury, Steve. But you, me and Thor need to be worried if Fury stops caring what type of people come at all.”

 

Steve was putting the final touches to the three small paintings he was submitting to the competition. His entry had been accepted and now he needed to submit work for the exhibit. He was grateful for the the corner of the small apartment he shared with his roommate Sam to work on his art. Although not a true studio in any sense, having a dedicated space was the next best thing and he had great light in the apartment. 

Sitting and pondering if he needed to add anything to the painting in front of him, Steve suddenly thought about Tony. He had worked out what he was going to say to him the next time he saw him about meeting somewhere other than the club. But, there was no Tony for a long time. After a couple of weeks, Steve started to wonder when exactly he might see him again. He had mentioned an upcoming trip to China and other places. He had thought Tony was only supposed to be gone for a couple of weeks. Then Valentine’s Day came and went, with no sign of his friend, and he worried that Fury had somehow chased Tony off. Or worse, that Tony had moved on. Steve cursed himself for not asking for a phone number when he had a chance.

 

The Young Artists Competition Exhibit was held in an old ballroom in the mansion that housed the Maria Stark Foundation. Steve stood uncomfortably next to his artwork. He was neatly dressed in the standard male college student uniform – blue suit coat, white shirt, nondescript clean tie, and pressed khaki pants. Clutching a plastic cup filled with water, he took a deep breath to clear his mind and to calm down. He usually had no problem getting through art critiques in school, and this would be no different. Or so he hoped.

The judges approached and were introduced. There was an art history professor from New York University, a curator from the Metropolitan Art Museum, someone from the Maria Stark Foundation, and someone from Stark Industries. In his nervousness, Steve barely caught their names, except for the last judge, a tall, striking red-headed woman named Ms. Potts.

She firmly shook his hand. “Steve Rogers?”

“Yes,” he replied as confidently as he could. He was also trying to remember the other judges’ names.

All the judges reviewed the exhibit guide, carefully considered Steve’s three paintings, and started taking notes.

One of the judges asked to tell them a little bit about himself. “I’m from Brooklyn and I’ll be graduating from Empire State in May with a major in studio art.”

Ms. Potts prompted Steve to talk about three paintings he had submitted. “I, um, draw and paint landscapes. I am particularly interested in cityscapes. Um. What I’ve been interested in lately is what cityscapes would look like to people who lived there when they were young and then came back to those same streets and buildings after being away for 50 or 70 years. I research what a building or street looked like back then and then compare it to now.” He took a deep breath. “Then I think about how perception changes over time and how that affects memory and understanding. I hope that comes through in the work.”

He continued. “These three paintings are of the area in Brooklyn where I grew up. Based on historical photos from the 1930s, it doesn’t look like it’s changed all that much over the years. But I think that the changes would be subtle to people living there now but very obvious to people living there back then.” He then went to describe his technique and why he chose the muted color palette to underscore his themes. He really hoped he had finished strong.

The judges had a few more questions that Steve fielded easily. The Maria Stark Foundation representative in particular seemed interested in his work and was talking very quietly to Ms. Potts. Soon the judges thanked him and moved on, and Steve breathed out with relief.

In the end, Steve did not win the competition, but he was a runner-up, and received a ribbon and small cash prize. Steve was thrilled – he had not expected to do even that well. There were a lot of very good works in the exhibit and he had been impressed with and a little intimidated by the other artists. But he was very surprised to hear from the Foundation a week after the competition. They were calling to inquire about buying all his exhibit paintings. With the money from the sale, Steve had enough money to buy his ticket to England for his long-hoped-for post-graduation trip to Europe.

 

Tony really did not like going to the Shield Club. He dreaded the day the paparazzi found out and photographed him leaving the club. It would look so tragic in the online gossip sites and in the tabloids. He tolerated the décor and the music. The food was excellent but it was not a particularly interesting menu after a while. Everything else was an irritant. But there he was, waiting for the maitre d’ to seat him.

No sign of his Beautiful Bunny anywhere. On earlier visits, Tony had made it clear that he was willing to tip a significant amount to be seated in his section, and it had never failed to work. But tonight the maitre d’ Phil said flatly that no seat was available and asked if he would be willing to be seated elsewhere.

Tony sighed deeply. He had been away far too long on his trip and really wanted to see BB. If he could not have him as his waiter, he should just leave. But, if he stayed, maybe he could still see Tall and Gorgeous. “Fine. Lead on,” he said. 

Once seated, his purple-attired waiter introduced himself as ‘Robin’ and took his order. Tony not so surreptitiously looked around for Blond Bunny. Tony had long since figured out when BB would be working. The guy was a great waiter so he was likely to get the better shifts and days. In his impatience and lack of planning, Tony had not thought to reserve a VIP room in order to see BB. And now, it appeared that he was not working tonight after all. Tony would just have his entrée and try again another night. Coming tonight was turning out to be a bad idea.

Suddenly the stars aligned in Tony’s favor and he saw Mr. Bunny standing at a nearby table. BB was in a crimson red leotard with gold gloves and heels. He even had a little red bow tie. Tony decided right then and there that he would buy the club tonight, send everyone home except the chef (because food), and show Red Hot Bunny the time of his life. Oh, the things they could do. But then he would have to explain to Pepper what he done. He could just hear her patiently asking why he had suddenly needed to buy a night club. She always had a way of making things that were so right sound so very irresponsible and crazy. Tony decided he did not want to have that conversation at all.

Then Red Hot Bunny gave him a wide smile and waved hello. Tony’s mouth went dry. He had to talk to him, so he got up and followed him to a service station where Hot Stuff was punching an order into the computer. Tony sidled up to him and said, “Hey there.”

Mr. Bunny, with his head bent over the service computer, did not even look up. “Oh, hey, Tony.”

Tony was not easily deterred. He stepped close, slid his hand down to cup Bunny’s crimson-covered ass and then stretched up to whisper in his ear, “When does your shift end?”

BB’s lips curled up and he darted a glance at Tony. “It’s an early night. I’m off at eleven.” He shifted slightly away from Tony then. “Until then I’m working.”

“Can I take you home?” Tony would do anything to get BB alone tonight. Red Hot & Blond just glowed in the shiny red leotard. His eyes were bluer, his hair blonder. And his broad shoulders and well-muscled arms were tantalizing. Tony wanted to take that bow tie off with his teeth.

BB was starting to set out glasses on a tray. He paused, then turned to Tony and said, “Sounds good to me.”

“Meet you outside? I’ll be the guy with the limo.”

“See you then,” Hot Stuff said, then squeezed Tony’s hand and walked away with his tray.

 

Later, Clint came up to Steve. “What the hell was that earlier?”

“Oh, that was just my friend Tony.”

“You’ve got to tell the customers that they can’t get handsy with the waiters.”

Steve just laughed. “It won’t be a problem in the future. He hasn’t seen me in a while.”

Clint shrugged. “He’s a good tipper at any rate. He looks an awful lot like Tony Stark.”

“It’s the goatee.” Steve stroked his chin absently. 

Clint snorted in amusement. “The real Tony Stark wouldn’t be caught dead in here.” Then he asked, “So, see you Sunday?”

“Yep. Sam said for you to bring the dip. We’ll cover the beer.” Steve clapped Clint on the shoulder. “See you later.” 

He was relieved to be finally clocking out, since his shift had dragged on so slowly after seeing Tony. Ideas about how the evening could end filled his mind and distracted him. Maybe it would be just a ride home. But Tony had looked at him in such a way that left him nearly breathless. No one had ever looked at him that way, and he wanted to see that again. 

Steve threw on his street clothes over his uniform, picked up his wallet, keys and coat from his locker, said goodnight to the other staff, and set off to meet Tony, feeling light-headed with anticipation.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More inspirational Wiredoll art: [here](http://wiredoll.tumblr.com/post/58019884149/i-changed-steves-outfit-to-look-more-like-a) and [here](http://wiredoll.tumblr.com/post/58024316122/it-seems-steve-is-having-wardrobe-malfunctions).

Strangely, it never occurred to Steve to wonder what Tony might have meant by “limo.” He stood outside the club on a corner a short distance from the main door. His eyes widened when an actual stretch limo pulled up beside him, and Tony pushed open the door to drag him inside.

Steve scooted over to sit next to Tony on the bench seat. Smiling, Tony lifted Steve’s chin and leaned in to kiss him gently. “Where to, gorgeous?”

“Brooklyn,” Steve stammered. While Tony gave the address to the driver, Steve checked his phone frantically in case his roommate had changed his plans. He was still in luck – Sam would not be back until morning.

Tony snuggled up to Steve. “Hey, what’s this?”

“Uh, my phone.”

He took the phone from Steve and poked at it. “You could do so much better.”

Steve shook his head. “It’s just a pay-as-you-go phone. It’s fine.”

“Really?” Doubt dripped from Tony’s voice. “Can you do anything with it?” Steve went to take it out of Tony’s hand but Tony held it high and away with a teasing grin on his face.

“Call and text, all I need.” Steve snatched it back while Tony snickered.

When Steve’s fingers brushed against his, Tony snagged his hand and began to caress the back with his thumb, before lifting it to press a kiss to the palm. “So, sweetheart, what’s your real name?”

“Steve.”

Tony turned slightly towards him and moved to rest his hand on Steve’s hip, and Steve caught the wonderful scent of his cologne. “I thought you’d be a Blaine or Jason or even Zach,” Tony said. He tugged Steve in closer until they were aligned from shoulder to knee.

Steve’s breath caught in his throat. He choked out, “No. No, just Steve.”

Smiling, Tony flicked the bowtie Steve was still wearing. He said, “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I must have forgotten to take it off.”

Tony then leaned over and kissed him lingeringly, his tongue sliding against Steve’s lips. Steve closed his eyes and opened up to him. Tony deepened the kiss, making it hotter and wetter, his hands cradling the back of Steve’s head. Finally breaking the kiss, Tony murmured next to Steve’s ear, “After such a long, hard day, you deserve to relax. I give a very good back rub.” He gently maneuvered Steve until his back was facing Tony.

Tony’s breath was warm and enticing against the nape of his neck. “It would help if you took your coat off.”

Steve wriggled out of his plain wool coat with Tony’s help. Then Tony began to rub circles with his thumbs into Steve’s shoulders. He moved slowly and gradually increased the pressure. His fingers were surprisingly strong. Then he rubbed Steve’s upper back with the heel of his hand. Steve began to moan lowly. “That feel good?” Tony breathed into his ear. Steve could only nod. Then Tony’s hand moved down lower, in wider circles along Steve’s spine. “Oooo, you’re still wearing the uniform,” Tony said excitedly. Completely relaxed, Steve nodded again. Tony kissed his neck lightly. “I could do better with oil and you with no shirt …..”

They noticed that the car had come to a stop. Steve felt slightly irritated that they were interrupted and then disappointed when Tony took his hands away. “I think we’ve arrived,” Tony said warmly.

There followed a moment of awkwardness as they both looked at each other and said nothing. And Steve realized that Tony was waiting for an invitation. Steve had never asked anyone up to his apartment before. He panicked, suddenly thinking what a mess the apartment was. The only saving grace was that he had actually made his bed this morning and done the laundry the day before so his clothes were put away. He swallowed and said quietly, “Would you like to come up?”

Tony beamed his widest smile and squeezed Steve’s hand. Steve took that as a yes. They gathered their belongings and stepped out into the crisp, late-winter night. Tony walked over to talk briefly to the driver. Returning, he clasped Steve’s hand and gestured ahead. “Lead on, beautiful.”

 

Steve lived in a third-floor walkup. He was lucky to be able to afford a two-bedroom apartment in this neighborhood. And the only reason was because his landlord was the uncle of his childhood friend Bucky. At first Steve had thought Bucky would be living with him and Sam, but Bucky was not one for college, and one day he left class to walk straight to the recruiting office to enlist. He was now in California at Marine scout sniper school. 

Steve felt Tony leaning into him as he unsteadily opened the apartment door. He was intoxicated by Tony’s scent and touch. Tony smelled of musk, coffee and metal mixed with the natural scent of his skin. And the way Tony touched him made him dizzy. Steve felt vaguely on edge as a feeling of want and desire grew in his stomach. The odds were very good that he would get to see Tony naked tonight. And he liked the idea very much.

Once inside, Tony pushed Steve against the wall in the entry way. They kissed, holding each other tightly, with Steve grabbing Tony’s shapely ass. Tony nipped at Steve’s jaw and chin and then worked his way down Steve’s throat and shoulder. He worried the skin at the base of Steve’s neck to the near point of bruising. Steve could have stayed there all night, holding and kissing Tony. But then Tony mentioned maybe they could make themselves more comfortable, perhaps in Steve’s bedroom.

Steve led them to his small room at the back of the apartment. Tony patted Steve’s ass, took off his shoes, and settled on Steve’s bed. Tony purred, “Let me take that shirt off, gorgeous. You’ve had it on too long.”

Stopping short of the bed, Steve quickly tugged his t-shirt over his head himself and stepped out of his shoes. With a leering smile, Tony reached out and pulled Steve closer to stand between Tony’s open legs. Tony put his hands on the waistband of Steve’s jeans. He undid the fly and then tugged the jeans down Steve’s legs to his feet. Tony returned his hands to Steve’s hips and whistled low at Steve standing there in the crimson leotard and bowtie. “You’re going to be the absolute death of me, beautiful. You have no idea what you are doing to me – not at the club, not in the limo and not here.”

Steve gathered his courage. “So … you … want to do something about it?” he asked with a slight quiver in his voice. 

Tony blinked. He lingeringly touched Steve’s sides and abdomen, the slight pressure of his fingers moving the silky leotard fabric against their skin. Tony paused to remove his suit coat and shirt while still resting his hand on Steve’s ass, reluctant to let go. Standing up, he tugged at the leotard, which did not move. “I want to peel this off, gorgeous.”

Steve ghosted his fingers over Tony’s chest. Tony was striking with his warm olive skin and deep brown sparkling eyes. He had not expected Tony’s well-muscled shoulders and upper arms but Tony looked very very good. He kissed his neck and shoulders, nipping at his jaw. Tony pulled away to tug harder at the leotard. “Why is it always so hard to get you out of your clothes?”

Steve had a great appreciation for the body tape that held up his uniform. But right now, it was absolutely not helping. “There is no way this is coming off unless you rip it off,” Steve informed Tony.

Tony frowned. Then he grasped the top edges of the leotard and yanked. Once the leotard was pulled free from Steve’s skin, Tony continued to peel it off Steve, until he was standing only in his bowtie and fishnet tights. Tony kissed the red spots left by the tape on his chest. They kissed again and Steve slid his hand under the waistband of Tony’s pants. He started to unbuckle the belt and undo the fly, then Tony helped push the pants off. Steve tried to move, but became so tangled up in the clothes and the shoes at his feet that he fell onto the bed, taking Tony down with him. They both laughed long and hard.

Now settled on the bed, Tony still in his boxers and Steve his tights, Tony pulled Steve in close, kissing his face, jaw, neck, and shoulders. He tried tugging the bowtie off with his teeth and was surprised to find it attached by snaps. He looked up at Steve, who just shrugged. He went lower, kept kissing Steve’s chest and licked one nipple, then the other. Steve exhaled sharply. Then Tony traced his pecs with a finger, and kissed his abdomen. He slipped his hand between Steve’s legs and rubbed. Steve was definitely reacting with interest. Then Tony moved suddenly off the bed. 

“What?” Steve exclaimed, sitting up.

“Baby, just relax,” Tony replied. “Now scoot over to me, I have to get your tights off and your bed is on the small side.” Steve sat at the edge of the bed and lifted his hips so that Tony could pull the tights and jock down over the swell of his ass. Then Tony slowly rolled the tights off one leg and then the other. He rubbed circles into Steve’s calves, up to his knees, up to his thighs. He kissed his knees, then the inside of his thighs. Steve’s breath was even more shallow, almost panting.

Tony drank him in. “My, my, my. Aren’t you something special, Mr. Bunny, all undressed.” The naked want on Tony’s face took Steve’s breath away. Then Tony asked in a low raspy voice, “How would you like it?”

Steve did not know what to say. He wanted anything, something. Tony was warm against him, his hands touching him in sensitive spots. He was on fire, he could do anything for Tony right now and here, but he had no words for what he wanted.

“Got to work with me, gorgeous,” Tony prompted.

“What are you proposing?” Steve had done a few things before, but not a lot of things.

Tony shifted a bit. His hands kept caressing Steve’s hips and thighs. “I’d like to fuck you. No, not like. _Want_ to fuck you. A lot.”

Steve blushed from head to chest. He should have expected something like that. He had a tube of lube in the bathroom, a million miles away. No condoms though. “Uh, there’s a slight problem ...”

Tony guessed and laughed. “Don’t worry. I always come prepared.” While Tony sorted through his clothes, Steve awkwardly struggled off the bed and left for the bathroom.

Steve returned to his room and found Tony stretched out in his bed, now completely naked. Hs mouth went dry. For all of Tony’s praise of him, Tony was equally gorgeous in the expanse of his glowing olive skin, shapely arms and shoulders, and spiky brown hair. And all of him was clearly very happy to see Steve returning. Tony pulled him down on the bed. “I’ve changed my mind. I want you to ride me. Can’t pass up looking at you.”

“Um, er, how do you, I, um, us -- do this?”

“Come here, baby, and I’ll show you.” Tony guided him into position, straddling Tony’s hips. Slicking up his fingers and putting on the condom, Tony began to work Steve open. “Ready?” he asked.

Lost in the feeling of Tony’s fingers stroking inside him, Steve barely could nod. He was starting to pant, his skin slick with sweat, his head dizzy with want and desire. Tony removed his fingers and nudged him where he wanted him. Steve hesitant at first lowered himself on Tony’s cock and felt Tony push in. Steve groaned with the feeling of being filled, being opened, being connected intimately with the man beneath him. Flexing his hands on Steve’s hips, thighs and ass, Tony encouraged him, told him how amazing he was, how beautiful he looked, how good Tony was going to make him feel. They fell into a rhythm of movement and sensation, up and down, in and out. Steve moved faster, starting to feel desperate for release. He locked eyes with Tony, whose eyes were nearly black, mouth slick and panting and skin wet with sweat. Steve felt unbelievably great, rocking back and forth with Tony, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. Then Tony reached up and stroked him. Steve fell completely apart, coming with a deep moan and sinking back into the pillows. Tony quickly readjusted, gripped Steve’s thighs and continued to thrust fast and deep into Steve until, with a few final thrusts, he gasped and collapsed over Steve’s chest. 

Satiated, they lay entwined in the bed, Tony kissing Steve’s neck, telling him how wonderful he was, how perfect, how gorgeous. Steve breathed in deep, a wonderful sense of calm settling over him. Tony was plastered against him, his hands resting on Steve’s body.

Finally, Steve stirred enough to leave the bed to find a towel and clean up. Tony smiled lazily up at him. “Come back here, Steve. It’s getting cold.”

He slid back into the bed and Tony curled into him. “What is it about you and your bathroom and why is everything you own in there?” he asked.

Steve murmured back, “It’s a small place, Tony. Only so much room.” He kissed the top of Tony’s head.

Tony muttered something back, but Steve was falling fast asleep so he did not hear what he said.

 

When Steve woke in the morning, he was keenly aware that he waking up in an empty bed. He had never even stirred when Tony left. Maybe Tony had taken off just before Steve woke up. Steve sat up, ran his hand through his hair, and pondered whether to go for a run or go to the gym. He felt a little empty, worn and uncertain about his choices. Then he looked up and saw the large piece of paper taped to his bureau mirror. “Call me. Text me. Get a new phone. Tony” was scrawled on the paper with a phone number.

He was not sure what to think.


	6. Chapter 6

Graduation was looming, and Steve was overwhelmed with finishing up his senior projects, final papers, studying for exams, and graduation paperwork. He felt daunted by his lack of progress as he stared at a partially finished canvas for the last two hours. Sam, coffee cup in hand, came up behind him. “I saw your friend leaving real early this morning.”

Steve blushed deeply. Tony had been over a few times since that night in late February and he usually came over only when Sam was away. Steve mumbled, “Sorry, if we …”

Sam clapped him on the shoulder. “Not like you haven’t put up with me before.” He sipped his coffee. “Hey, is everything okay with that?”

“Things are fine. Why?”

“Look, I’m not getting all up in your business, but, Steve, you were always a one-guy guy. Whatever is going with you and your friend doesn’t seem, you know, like you.”

Sam had unknowingly hit on a sore spot. Steve did not want to admit that he was also worried. He knew how bad it looked, meeting Tony only after work and always coming straight back to Steve’s apartment. “I’m okay with it.”

“If you’re okay with things as they are, that’s okay. But if you want something more, and he’s just messing around, that’s not so okay for you. You deserve to be treated right, too, you know. You don’t have to put up with someone doing wrong by you just because they’re cute.”

“Gee, thanks, Mom,” Steve said. 

“You know I’m right,” Sam said, squeezing Steve’s shoulder.

“Thanks, Sam. I appreciate it.”

“Good luck with that.” Sam waved his coffee cup in the direction of Steve’s canvas. “I’m off to the library. I’ve got two papers to finish by next week.”

After Sam left, Steve thought about what Sam had said. Tony did see Steve at odd times, and so far they had only communicated by text. He was sort of sure that Tony was really Tony’s first name. But it was not like Steve had all the free time in the world either. His schedule was full with school, work, the gym and other stuff. 

And he knew things about Tony, how busy he was and how much he had going on. Tony was always in the middle of a dozen or so projects, or traveling for business, or attending long, involved meetings. He was fascinated by how things worked and how they could be improved. He liked fast cars and new technology and loved robots. He was in constant motion, fidgeting when sitting, vibrating when walking, never still. Tony was the smartest person Steve had ever met. The last time Steve had seen him, he excitedly showed Steve a small robot he had built. The four-legged robot crawled all over Steve’s bed at Tony’s voice command. The smile on Tony’s face was amazing that night. Steve knew he could look at Tony glowing with excitement and pride forever.

But Steve also felt that what they had was fragile, and that if he told Tony how he felt, maybe Tony would disappear. Maybe whatever they had between them was not real solid, but it made Steve happy. This was working for them right now, even if it meant just seeing Tony occasionally. It was not worth risking what he had by asking questions.

 

Three weeks later, Sam threw a graduation party for Steve at his parents’ house. He had invited their friends from college and Steve’s friends from work. Sam had even managed to get Bucky to Skype in. Steve thought it was a great party.

He was in the kitchen when Bruce mentioned that he was leaving the Shield Club. “Stark Industries made me a real nice offer,” Bruce said. None of his post-doc applications had come through.

“Hey, that’s great, Bruce,” Steve said enthusiastically.

“It’s going to be great to have a day job and my own lab. They’re going to pay for conferences and everything.”

“Better than a post-doc.”

“I’ll miss teaching though,” Bruce sighed. “Look me up when you get back from your trip.”

“Yeah. I’ll be gone about a month.”

“Where are you going?” 

“As far as my money will last.” Steve smiled. “I’m meeting my friend Peggy in England, and we’re definitely going to France, Italy, Austria and Germany.”

Sam called them into the backyard to cut the cake and open presents. Sam’s parents gave Steve a backpack and his other friends various gifts for his trip. Then Clint handed him a card with $500 from everyone at the club. Steve was stunned. Clint said that they figured he could use the money to travel with. “We all want you to have a great time. Blow it all on your trip.” Tears welled up in Steve’s eyes as he thanked everyone. He was very grateful.

 

A couple of days before Steve left for England, Tony texted him. “Free for dinner tomorrow?”

Steve had finished his last shift at the club the night before and was now taking some time off to pack and get ready to go. He texted back, “Yeah.”

“Pick up at 7. Wear something nice.” Nice did not mean jeans. Steve would have to iron his charcoal pants and blue shirt, his one dressy outfit.

The next day, he grew more nervous as seven o’clock came closer. He fiddled with his outfit, fussed with his hair longer than usual, and polished his shoes. He had no idea where they were going and he had not really been out to dinner with Tony before. Dinner at the club never really felt like a real date.

Then he got another text. “Change in plans. Sending the car to pick you up at 8:30.”

Steve guessed that they were going to a place that did not need reservations. He tried picking up a book to pass the time. But the wait dragged on. Finally the car came. It was not the limo tonight but a rather expensive town car. The driver mentioned that Tony would be meeting Steve at the restaurant.

The restaurant turned out to be an upscale new American cuisine place in Midtown. The hostess seated him and said that the “other gentleman” would be there shortly. Steve checked his phone, worried that a short time would turn into a long time. And then turn into maybe never. But before he could get too involved in playing a game on his cell phone, Tony strode up to the table.

“Hey there, beautiful,” Tony greeted him. Sitting down close to Steve, he kissed him on the cheek. He ordered a drink and an appetizer. But he was not his usual bouncy self. 

“You look exhausted,” Steve said with concern. Even though Tony was stylishly dressed and freshly showered, he looked pale with tired, red eyes.

Tony laughed. “Oh, I’ve been up for hours. Maybe 48 or 50 hours straight – it all bleeds together. Just been caught up in a big project.” Tony smiled wearily at Steve.

Steve really enjoyed dinner. Tony stole food off his plate while Steve tried to defend his meal. They talked about Steve’s upcoming trip and Tony’s new project. Steve got Tony to order dessert. Finally, Tony suggested that they go back to Steve’s apartment. He curled up into Steve in the back seat of the car, resting his head on his shoulder. Steve put his arm around him as Tony drifted off to sleep.

When they got to the apartment, Steve mentioned maybe Tony should go home if he was so tired. Tony shook his head and insisted on staying. Steve helped him walk upstairs. They settled onto the couch, where Tony promptly fell asleep on Steve. Steve settled himself comfortably around Tony and grabbed the remote to turn on the TV. He carded his hand through Tony’s thick, wavy hair.

Much later, Tony woke up and asked, “What’s that?” 

Steve looked down at Tony’s befuddled expression. “It’s SportsCenter.”

“SportsCenter?”

“It’s a sports news show. I’m looking for the baseball scores. The Mets played tonight. They’re looking good. Might be their year.”

Tony snorted. “I’m not a sports fan but even I know that’s a long shot.” He yawned, shifted a little, and then started to doze again.

Steve kissed the top of his head. “Let’s get you to bed.” Tony protested meekly as Steve pushed him to his feet. Steve managed to get Tony out of his clothes and into his bed. By the time Steve returned from the bathroom, Tony was sound asleep. Steve watched him fondly before carefully sliding under the sheets trying not to wake him.

Steve woke later than usual in the morning and Tony was still there. Tony had even wormed his way into Steve’s arms during the night and lay curled up against Steve’s chest. Steve kissed the back of Tony’s neck and let his hands palm Tony’s ass. Then he slid his hand around to Tony’s front and stroked his cock. Tony sputtered awake. “That’s a nice morning wake-up,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. Tony turned to face Steve and returned the favor. Still half asleep, they kissed softly and lazily, then touched and stroked each other until they came in a gentle release.

After leaning his head against Steve and resting a few minutes, Tony suggested they should go out for breakfast. It took effort for both of them to shower and dress. Steve mentioned that the diner around the corner was known for their breakfast. Tony smiled up at Steve and laced their hands together for the short walk to the diner. Once there, they did not talk much, Steve reading the paper and Tony checking his phone. But their knees touched under the table, they shared secret smiles and brushed their hands against each other during the meal. Then Tony said he had to go. Reaching into his suit coat, he handed Steve a card. “Give me a call when you get back, hot stuff,” he whispered to Steve as he kissed his cheek and left, Steve watching him walk out of the diner and out of sight.

 

Steve opened the envelope later at home. It contained a card with a generic picture on the front but with a gift card inside. Tony had scrawled “Congratulations” in the corner. Steve went online to check the balance and discovered that the card held $10,000. Tony had given him $10,000. Steve just stared at the computer. He had never even seen that amount of money. And this flimsy piece of plastic represented all that money.

Obviously Tony meant for Steve to use it on his trip. But there was no way Steve could possibly use it. He would have to return it to Tony the next time he saw him.


	7. Chapter 7

Steve came back inspired and uplifted from his trip, with memories of great cities, museums, and food, sketchbooks full of art, and a plan, two plans actually, now that he was out of college. Under the first plan, he would focus on his art and hopefully get pieces into art shows and galleries once he had a nice collection of work and start selling pieces. The other plan was to see Tony outside of work and in the daylight and maybe even become boyfriends who talked on the phone and went out on actual dates. But the execution of plan two was put in serious jeopardy, Steve realized, when he decided to blow Tony against the wall of a VIP room in full bunny gear. 

He had returned to the club after his trip and Nat, Clint and Thor were really glad to see him. Phil was pleased as well, and even Fury grudgingly said hello. His regular customers asked about his trip and tipped him extra. Clint warned him about the new bartender who was not as nice as Bruce to the wait staff. But after a couple of shifts Steve noticed that there were subtle changes. The menu had shifted to lower-priced items, the clientele were more tourists than regulars, and the tips were not as good. After Steve had been back for a week, Thor pulled him aside, said that he would be leaving for a job at another club soon, and he could put in a good word for Steve with the new club’s ownership if Steve wanted to come along.

Steve wondered if he should consider Thor’s offer. He had a sinking feeling that Tony would not be coming to the club much longer, and there was no guarantee he would see Tony if he stopped dropping by. His trip to Europe had been fantastic, but just as importantly he had gained some perspective about Tony. While sitting by himself outside a bar in Berlin just before his return home, Steve had decided to ask Tony what they were doing and if they had a chance at some sort of real relationship. In Berlin, he had been all sorts of confident about confronting Tony. But after he got back to New York, he put off contacting Tony, knowing he would have to follow through on his plan. Once he had settled back at work, though, he began to remember everything he liked and even loved about Tony. He tentatively texted Tony hello.

Unexpectedly, Tony sent back a barrage of texts, asking when he could see Steve, what Steve’s work schedule was, how was Europe, could he pick Steve up? Finally, Tony sent a text simply stating “VIP room, Tuesday.” Steve sighed deeply and resolved yet again to follow through with the plan.

That Tuesday he rehearsed his little speech and put the gift card at the service station in the VIP room so he could return it to Tony. He adjusted his bunny ears and bow tie and hitched his blue leotard into place, noticing the tape was not working as well as usual tonight. He told himself to be strong and firm and let Tony know how he felt. But all Steve’s preparations fell apart when he saw how excited Tony was to see him. Tony stepped through the door, all smiles and happiness for Steve, walked straight to him, and launched himself into Steve’s arms. He kissed Steve as if he had been held hostage in a cave and Steve was the first person he saw after he was freed.

Desire for Tony washed over Steve. He lost all his resolve and pushed Tony against the wall, kissing his lips, eyes, forehead, jaw. He moved down, kissed Tony’s neck, and Tony lifted his head to give Steve more access to his neck and shoulder. The more Steve kissed Tony, the more he wanted. He reached down to unbutton Tony’s shirt and tug it free of his pants, while he kissed and licked the dip at the base of Tony’s neck tasting the tang of cologne and soap. He continued down the bare skin of Tony’s chest, paying attention to his nipples, running his hands over Tony’s sides and down his back. Steve could feel Tony’s erection firm against him, and he had to undo Tony’s pants and pull them down along with his briefs. “Steve,” Tony hissed as Steve went down on his knees. Steve took Tony into his mouth and licked and sucked as Tony, now fully hard, groaned above him. Tony’s hands ran over Steve’s head, tugging on the hair not pinned under the bunny ears. Tony groaned lower as Steve kept enthusiastically sucking him and opened up to take in Tony deeper. He warned Steve, “Oh god, I’m coming,” and gave a strangled noise and shuddered against Steve’ hands pinning him to the wall.

Steve gently pulled off, tucked Tony back into his pants, and stood up. Tony wrapped his arms around him and they stood there just holding each other, Tony’s head resting on Steve’s shoulder, while Steve worked to calm himself down, since he could not ruin his uniform. There would always be time for that later. “Will that be all, Mr. Stark?” Steve teased.

Tony laughed. He kissed Steve sweetly. “I can taste myself on your lips,” he rasped. “We should order dinner. You know what to order.”

Steve pulled away. “I hope you aren’t disappointed. The menu is a little different now. Any opinions on seafood?”

Tony sat down at the table and briefly checked his phone. “Whatever you would like, gorgeous.”

Steve punched through the order from appetizers to desserts. He turned to see Tony with his chin in his hand, carefully regarding Steve. “So how was Europe?” Tony asked.

Excitedly, Steve told him about his travels while they waited for the appetizer to arrive. He mentioned the museums he seen in France and Italy, the food, the trains, everything. He described a sunset he had seen in Germany, but did not say that he had thought of Tony while he watched the sun go down behind the trees and fields. He did say that he regretted that they did not have the time to see Spain. Then the dumbwaiter buzzed with the arrival of the first dishes.

As usual, Steve served the drinks and food while Tony and he talked. But as he set the desserts on the table, he unexpectedly popped out of the top of his leotard. At the sight of Steve’s well-defined chest now bare to the world, Tony smiled broadly in appreciation. “Well now. I’ve been waiting for that to happen for a long time,” he said brightly.

Despite fiddling with it, Steve could not get the leotard to stay up. Tony laughed and said with a lascivious smile, “Come over here, sweetheart, and sit on my lap.” He took Steve’s hand and drew him close. Steve settled sideways on Tony’s lap and nestled into Tony’s arms and chest. Steve gave a brief thought to the chair, but it seemed sturdy enough to hold their weight. Tony lowered his hand to run over Steve’s lower back and ass. They kissed languidly, nipping at each others’ mouths. 

After a while, Steve surfaced and remembered the gift card. He squirmed out of Tony’s arms. “Tony, before I forget, I need to give this back to you.” He went over to the service station to get the card.

Tony looked confused. “What?”

“The gift card you gave me before I left.” Steve handed over the plastic card. “Thank you very much for the gift – it was wonderful you thought of me. But it’s too much, Tony, I can’t accept it.”

Tony laughed. “Oh, sweetie, it’s not a big deal. I spend more on spare nuts and screws monthly.” He pushed the card back across the table to Steve.

“I kind of understand,” Steve replied, taking a deep breath. He continued tentatively, “I know we’re friends, but this kind of makes me think we’re something different. And I don’t think that’s what you meant.”

Tony was inspecting his chocolate mousse, prodding it with his fork. He looked up and said firmly, “Steve, seriously, it’s okay. You’ve earned it.”

Earned it? Steve’s head spun at hearing the words and his heart fell into the pit of his stomach. He stood straighter and squared his shoulders. “Excuse me, I ‘earned’ it?” Steve felt that what he thought he knew about Tony was rapidly slipping away from him.

Tony blithely kept eating the dessert. He waved his fork in the air at Steve. “For spending time with me. That sort of thing. Just think of the money as an extra special tip.”

“I’m not that sort of person, Tony,” Steve said sternly. Well, as sternly as he could with bunny ears on his head and his leotard falling halfway down his chest. He felt naked and embarrassed.

“Sweetheart, you’re a cocktail waiter in a sort of sleazy club,” Tony replied. “And you dress like a Playboy bunny for work. I’m not sure virtue was ever in play here.”

Steve flushed red. It was like he never understood Tony at all. And just a short time ago he had performed a very intimate act with Tony because he had been so excited to see him again. Steve stammered, trying to protest, to say something. His throat closed on his words.

Tony sat back, and threw his arm over the chair back. “I mean, isn’t that what you people do? Flirt and promise things with your body for tips and money, whatever you can get from your customers.” He leered at Steve and reached for his hand. Steve stepped back further away. “Hot stuff, I don’t mind playing the game with you.”

“I’m a waiter, Tony. I was putting myself through school,” Steve stated strongly. He felt attacked.

“Honey, I’ve heard that story from nearly every stripper and dancer I’ve ever met,” Tony added. His eyes seemed cold, harsh and foreign to Steve. “What makes you think you’re so special?”

Steve stepped back and away from the table and Tony. “I have never, ever lied about who I am and what I do. I am an artist. I was a college student, I graduated about a month and a half ago, and I work here as a waiter, nothing more,” he said quietly with dignity. “I have integrity, Tony, and pride. I would never expect you to give me money just because we spend time together.”

Tony was now angry. “Why should I believe you? People tell me all the time they’re honest and full of integrity and that they don’t want my money and then they try to stab me in the back and steal from me.” His eyes flashed and he was now standing, gripping the table. “How do I know that you even went to Europe with your girlfriend?”

Steve snapped back, “Peggy is not my girlfriend. She’s a friend from high school and she moved back to England when I went to college. She’s the person who told me that I could be an artist. She’s one of my best friends.” He had to leave the room. He could get Natasha to cover for him. “I did go to Europe. I have tickets, my sketches, whatever proof you need.”

“Fine,” Tony hissed. “Let’s see the proof, ‘Steve,’ if you have it.”

Steve could push one of the panic buttons and have Phil and Thor pull Tony out of the room and out of the club. But no matter how angry he was at Tony he could not do that to him. It would be immensely embarrassing to Tony. Steve would never stoop that low. He went over to the service computer, punched in a few codes, closing out his ticket and opening one for Nat.

He felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. But he pulled himself together enough to state simply to Tony, “I am going to leave now. I will get another waiter for you.”

Tony looked a little agitated, now that Steve said he was going, “Steve, um –“

Steve looked at Tony and said, “All I wanted was your attention and time. I don’t need anything else from you. Especially now.” He left the room.

 

Tony stayed angry for a few days after Steve left him in the VIP room at the nightclub. All he had wanted to do was give a nice gift to someone he was rather fond of and the guy threw it back at him. Screw him if he did not see that Tony was trying to be nice.

But after not thinking about it for a few days longer, he calmed down and his anger gradually gave way to understanding what Steve had tried to tell him. Tony was always giving people inappropriate, extravagant gifts and they never reacted in the way he expected or hoped. He should have just given Steve a StarkPhone. That’s what Pepper would have suggested. Then, grudgingly, he admitted to himself that he probably should not have said what he said to Steve.

Especially the crack about the “girlfriend.” Before, he had been slightly jealous of Steve’s friend getting to travel with him to all those great places. He could have gone with Steve, backpacking and all. Except for staying in hostels. Tony knew some great luxury hotels. They could have stayed at those places and traveled around by train. Except in Italy, where they would have needed a new Ferrari instead. Maybe a different car in Germany too. It would have been massive fun. Now, he was really jealous of Steve’s friend.

He tried to text Steve and got no response. No response to his phone messages. He started to feel desperate to connect to Steve. He might actually miss the guy. Or, at least, he wanted to end things on a good note. He always got along with past lovers. He could fix this with Steve.

Finally, he decided to go to the club and find Steve. He asked the maitre d’ Phil if Sapphire was working that night.

Phil replied in a clipped tones, “Sapphire no longer works here.”

“Excuse me, what did you say?”

“Sapphire no longer works here,” Phil said. “I believe I was quite clear before, Mr. Stark.”

Tony bit his lip. “Do you know where Steve – ah, Sapphire went?”

“That information is on a need-to-know basis. And you aren’t in the need-to-know group.”

“Please?” Tony held up some money.

Phil frowned at him. “Please leave, Mr. Stark, if you are not looking for a table tonight.”

Back in his car on the way back home, Tony did not know what to do. If Steve never answered his phone, Tony would lose him forever. He had been a real jerk. And now he would pay for it.


	8. Chapter 8

Two days after Steve walked out on Tony, Steve was still working hard to put Tony out of his mind. Tony’s words might not have hurt as much if Steve had not been thinking the same things about his job. But the harshness and cruelty still stung. He was determined that he was not going to call or text Tony, no matter how much it hurt not to talk to him. He was not at all certain what he would do if Tony contacted him. And he really hoped that Tony would not just show up at his apartment, like a stalker.

But Steve did not have the time to dwell on his confused feelings over Tony during his shift tonight. The club was crowded, mostly with tourists. And he was looking out for the new waitress, Bobbi, who was struggling with her tables. Bobbi had no experience as a cocktail waitress, having only worked at her family’s restaurant. She was cute in her bunny outfit with victory rolls in her hair and tattoos all over. 

It was Clint who first noticed that one of Bobbi’s tables in particular was giving her a hard time. “Hey, Steve, did one of those guys over there just pinch Bobbi?” he asked.

These days Nat mostly worked the VIP rooms and was not on the floor, and Steve was stepping up as a sort of assistant head waiter. He went over to Bobbi as she loaded drinks on her tray. “How are things?” he asked.

Bobbi just smiled wearily. “Going good.”

“Are those guys giving you a hard time? Because you don’t have to put with them if they’re hassling you. Clint or I could take over.” 

She shook her head. “No big deal, Steve. I’ve dealt with jerks before.”

“I started waiting tables back when I was sixteen and scrawny. Never had a problem with customers until I got a major growth spurt and started working out. I had to figure out how to shut the handsy people down or I’d never survive. I’ve got some suggestions about how to handle that table,” Steve advised. He knew how to shut down every type of flirty, handsy and aggressive customer. But then he remembered how he had let Tony do whatever he wanted because of Tony’s special smile. He was not proud of that.

“Later,” Bobbi promised. “I think they’ll settle down once they get their drinks.”

It did not get better. The jerks started to get bolder and Bobbi was struggling. She was now in the weeds with her other tables because the jerks would not let her go. Steve did not want to take over the table from her if she still wanted to try to solve the problem herself. But he decided to step in when one of the customers knocked a glass off the table deliberately so that he could ogle Bobbi when she bent over to pick up the glass.

“Hey, take a break,” Steve said to Bobbi, who was in tears. Now was not the time to point out how the busboy should have picked up the glass. He nodded over to Clint, who took her back to the staff locker room.

Steve strode up to the table and took out his order pad. He had already decided to cut them off from the bar. Taking a pencil from behind his ear, he fixed a steely look at the rowdy customers and stated in a no-nonsense fashion, “Good evening, I am Sapphire and I will be your waiter tonight. Your entrees will be ready soon. Would you like anything additional?” The customers were angry, demanding that the “chick” come back. Steve ignored them and their comments, served them their entrees, declined to encourage dessert, and produced the check in snappy order. He watched them leave very unhappy, and went over to let Phil know what he had done.

Later, at the end of his shift, Steve stood outside as usual a short distance from the club waiting for the late night car service to pick him up. He was checking messages and the only message he had was from Sam letting him know he had landed safely at the airport on his trip to visit relatives. Nothing from Tony. Steve tried to not feel bothered by that.

He heard “Hey – there’s that asshole waiter” behind him and then he was assaulted by two of the obnoxious customers from earlier. His phone was knocked out of his hand and was crushed into the pavement when one of the drunks jumped on Steve’s back. Steve had been in just enough fights in his life to know how to punch back. He threw himself backwards into the building wall, knocking the first guy off his back, then stomped hard on the foot of the other guy. Steve thought that they might be drunk, and drunk men could be very dangerous. One guy tried to punch Steve, who ducked and swung his backpack at him, hitting him hard. Steve shoved the other guy down again just as the other drunk rushed him. Steve kicked him in the stomach. Then Thor came out of nowhere, knocking both drunks down and unconscious.

Thor quickly looked over Steve to see if there was any damage and hustled him back into the club, ordering the other bouncer to handle the two drunks. Handing Steve a drink, Phil settled him down while Thor called the police. It seemed to take forever for the police to come. Steve wanted to file charges. He had done nothing wrong, they hit him first, and his phone was a lost cause. Thor managed the rest of the situation and later told Steve that Steve had handled himself very well. But before Steve left for home, Fury materialized out of his office. He told Steve that he expected to see him in his office the next afternoon.

Steve was anxious over his meeting with Fury. Phil was there in the office as well when Steve arrived. Once he was seated, Fury said, “I’m sorry about last night, Steve. Phil and Thor should have realized that those guys hadn’t really left and were waiting for you.”

“Thanks,” Steve replied. But he knew he was not there to hear Fury’s apology.

“You’ve been a great employee, Steve. We all like you and I’ve have had no complaints in the least about your service. But I’ve been clear in the past – we can’t have the police here at the club. Last night was unfortunate. I know you were assaulted. But it should have been handled differently.”

“Thor suggested –”

“And I’ve talked to Thor already about what happened. Rules are rules, Steve. I have to let you go.” Fury opened a drawer and took out an envelope. “Here is your severance pay. Thank you for your work here. Phil will help you clean out your locker.” Fury shook a stunned Steve’s hand and gestured to Phil to show him out.

Phil produced a box for Steve to use to pack up his locker. He apologized to Steve, saying that he knew it was unfair and that he had argued on Steve’s behalf. Phil blamed himself, said Thor had been fired too, and slipped Steve some additional money. Steve closed his locker, leaving behind his uniforms, ears, and spare tails. Phil called him a car to take him home. Steve shook his hand and said thanks. He was not going to miss much about the club, but he would miss working with his friends along with the money.

 

Sam returned from his family vacation to find an unshaven Steve in his stained gym clothes sitting on the couch among pizza boxes and watching a World War II marathon on television. “I go away for a week and, wow, everything goes crazy. What’s going on, Steve?”

Bleary-eyed and yawning, Steve stirred enough to say hello. He must have been awake for a straight twenty-four hours since he left Fury's office. “Got fired,” he said. Then told Sam what had happened.

“Wow,” Sam replied. “I have no words.”

“I have no job and no phone. I have to figure out how to get in touch with the police about the assault charges.”

Sam settled down on the couch. “Is that all?”

Steve did not want to talk about Tony. “That’s it.”

“Hah,” Sam snorted. “Grad student in social work, here. I take classes about how to tell when people are in trouble. I don’t think that’s all.”

Steve rubbed his chin and then the back of his neck. Reluctantly he said, “That guy I was sort of seeing?” Sam nodded. “Well, it turned out you were right that he was just messing around with me.”

“Oh,” Sam said. They sat on the couch a while longer watching the Italian Campaign unfold on the television. Once it was clear that Steve really was not going to talk about whatever had happened between him and Tony, Sam nudged Steve. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and go out somewhere fun tonight.”

“I’m not sure if I’m up to doing anything.”

Sam replied firmly, “Getting out of here will do you a world of good. Or do you want me to sic Bucky or Peggy on you?”

Steve smiled at that and managed to unearth himself from his little nest in the couch. “Where to?”

“Wherever we can go for good food, cold beer, and cute guys and girls to flirt with. Get a move on.”

 

Steve was surprised to hear from the Maria Stark Foundation a couple of days later out of the blue. The director, Jasper Sitwell, emailed him with a possible job offer. The Foundation was in the planning stages for a significant capital campaign and they wanted to talk to Steve about art for campaign literature and advertising. A couple of days after the first email, Steve met with the staff at the Foundation to present his portfolio and sketches laying out ideas for their campaign. The staff was very excited about his work and he was almost immediately offered a contract. Steve appreciated the offer greatly and gingerly negotiated a few additional terms. In the end, he became the newest employee of the Foundation. He would primarily work at home but had space at the Foundation mansion for when he needed to meet with Foundation staff and the occasional representative from Stark Industries.

In the meantime, he had no idea if Tony had tried to reach him. With the turmoil of the past three weeks, Steve had had no time to sort out how he felt about Tony, much less deal with the loss of his old phone, which had been mostly the only way he could contact Tony. Now, he faced the fact that he had a Tony-shaped hole in his life. Maybe he should ask Clint if Tony had ever come by the club and asked about him.

The Foundation also provided him a refurbished StarkPhone for work. And that is how they informed him one day that he needed to report to Stark Tower with his campaign artwork for a meeting with the Foundation Board of Trustees.


	9. Chapter 9

When Steve called Bruce with the news, Bruce suggested that they meet in the lobby of Stark Tower before his meeting. Steve looked around at the magnificent lobby with its modern art, contemporary furniture, panoramic windows, and sleek walls. Bruce handed him coffee from the lobby coffee shop. “Welcome to the family,” Bruce said and sipped from his own cup of tea.

“I wasn’t expecting this. This is place is huge,” Steve admitted. They sat down on a bench in a secluded corner and Steve propped his portfolio case next to him.

“It’s an amazing place to work. I’d show you around my lab, but you need top-secret clearance to even get access to my floor.”

Steve was wearing his employee ID card. He tapped it and said, “At least this gets me to the 40th floor, where my meeting is.”

“What exactly are you doing for the Foundation?”

“They’re having me do illustrations created from photographs to reflect the history of the foundation. And I’m also doing some drawings about future Foundation projects and buildings to show donors what the Foundation wants to do,” Steve said. He looked around the lobby, taking in how modern the place was. “It’s like what I’ve been doing recently with my painting.” Steve was really enjoying the work. He also liked that he was getting personal inspiration from some of the photographs.

Bruce nodded. “By the way, it’s a shame about what happened at the club. That was just wrong, firing you because of those crappy customers.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the way it is.” Steve shrugged. He got a lot of sympathy from waiter friends, who offered him leads if he wanted to go back to waiting tables. “Say, have you ever seen Tony Stark?”

Bruce shook his head, “No. Well, not up close. I’ve seen him in the distance. But I couldn’t tell if he looked at all like that guy who was always dropping by to see you, if that’s what you were asking.”

“Just wondering.” Since starting work at the Foundation, Steve had seen a few photographs of the Stark Industries CEO, who bore a striking resemblance to his friend Tony. Steve was actually starting to think that there was a strong possibility that his Tony was the real thing.

Bruce offered, “Maybe we can meet up for lunch when you get out of your meeting? I know some great places around here.” They both got up from the bench to head toward the elevators. 

“Sounds good to me. I’ll text you.” 

Bruce showed Steve to where the elevators to the 40th floor were and wished him luck before heading off in the opposite direction. Steve waved back as the elevator doors closed, squared his shoulders, and set off for his meeting.

 

Tony made his way to his office after another all-nighter in his workshop. Freshly showered and suited up, he nodded good morning to the staff members on his floor and picked up a cup of coffee at one of the many, many coffee machines located near his office. Then he checked to see if Pepper was in her office - located next to his for convenience, of course; but the location made it very difficult to sneak past her. He thought he was in the clear as he slid into his office. But Pepper was endowed with superpowers and she walked in right after he sat down at his desk.

“Tony, I have your schedule for today.” In stiletto heels and dressed beautifully in her version of a superheroine-slash-businesswoman uniform, Pepper looked fully prepared for her day of Tony-wrangling. She presented Tony with a stack of papers to sign. She also handed him a tablet filled with documents for the meetings he had on his calendar. 

Tony adjusted the dark glasses covering his eyes. “What can I skip today?”

“I’m not going to tell you that,” Pepper exclaimed. “Every meeting I set up is important. I’ve already weeded out the pointless stuff. Well, pointless to you at any rate.”

Tony started to go through the stack of paper, quickly reading over each sheet and signing most. “I’ve got things to do,” he said with a sigh. He looked longingly over at a table covered with dissembled GPS mapping equipment.

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Well, despite your insistence on skipping meetings, you definitely need to go to the Maria Stark presentation this morning. They are asking for Trustee approval to go ahead with their capital campaign advertising plans.” Tony looked at the agenda on the tablet and noticed the campaign artwork. He knew enough about art to recognize that they had hired a very talented artist. Pepper continued, “I can reschedule your lunch appointment if necessary. Tell me now. You also need to meet with the lawyers this afternoon to discuss your deposition in the Hammer lawsuit.”

“You’re being very nice to me, Pep,” Tony said suspiciously.

“You’ve gone to almost all your meetings, signed off on your paperwork when I’ve asked, and in general have not been your usual pain-in-the-ass self. Either you’ve reformed entirely, which I doubt, or you’re hoping I won’t find out that you’ve gotten yourself into some sort of terrible mess. I’m betting on the second option.”

“Pepper, when do I have time to get into trouble?” Tony asked disingenuously. He smiled strainedly at her and fiddled with the phone on his desk.

She set down her tablet and paperwork and said seriously, “Tony, is everything okay? You haven’t been yourself for a couple of weeks.”

Tony waved her off. No, he was not fine at all. Steve was on his mind a lot these days. Maybe he would tell Pepper later about the whole sad, sordid story. “Aw, Pep, come on. You know me -- lots to do, always under pressure, never enough fun time.”

Pepper replied, “That’s why I’m asking. Oh gosh, you need to get going to the Maria Stark Trustees meeting. Go, go, go.” She started to push him out the door.

Despite Pepper’s best efforts, Tony was still a half-hour late to the meeting. He was stopped in the hallway to discuss a problem in the R&D department. Someone asked him to look a piece of equipment. He needed fresh coffee. He needed to check his phone messages one more time before reaching the conference room. Pepper trailed after him trying to deflect other interruptions.

The meeting was already underway as they entered the conference room. But at least Jasper and his people had not started their presentation about the campaign, almost as if someone had predicted that Tony would be late to the meeting. Tony went around the room, greeting each trustee with a warm smile, a handshake for the men and a kiss on the cheek for the women, turning on the charm, and leaving comments and compliments in his wake. He said hello to the board secretary. He settled into his usual chair at the top of the table, Pepper on his right. He waved his hand in a vague gesture. “Sorry about being late. Off saving the world as usual. So, Jasper, you have a show for us?”

Jasper (who could be a bit of a stuffed shirt) started the presentation, explaining the capital campaign and where they were with it. Tony listened with half an ear as he scrolled through his tablet and phone. So he did not notice when the tall blond man who was sitting with the Maria Stark people set up artwork on the easels at his end of the room. Then Jasper said, “And here is Steve Rogers to talk about the artwork for the campaign.”

Tony looked up briefly. His eyes widened in recognition and his jaw dropped. _That was **his** Steve_. His Steve, dressed in real life clothes, not a bunny costume, was standing a few feet away. Not imaginary, but real and in his conference room. And looking directly at him. Tony dared to hope that he had seen a flash of recognition in Steve’s beautiful blue eyes. Steve looked breathtaking and Tony felt his heart flutter. Steve did not say anything, but coughed a few times and then began his presentation.

Tony hung on every word. He stared raptly at Steve, watching as he deftly discussed the artwork displayed on the easels and the computer-generated images on the screen. Pepper kicked Tony under the table. But Tony had no idea why she was doing that. He did not want to miss a second of Steve. It was the fastest presentation Tony had ever heard in his life, and at the end, Jasper jumped up, looking alarmed, and thanked Steve profusely in a loud voice. Steve was blushing enough to be noticeable and was clearly trying not to look at Tony. Tony could not take his eyes off Steve. There were some murmurs among the other people in the room and Tony failed to see everyone becoming uncomfortable with his intense staring at Steve. Jasper hesitated and then asked if there were any questions for the Maria Stark graphics team.

Tony had questions all right, a lot of them, for the graphics team, or maybe for just one member of the team. “So, Steve, how long have you been working at the Foundation?”

Steve stood like a deer caught in the headlights. Or worse, like a gazelle about to pounced on by a lion. He visibly swallowed and stammered out that he was working on a year-long contract with the Foundation and had started about a month ago. Tony thought Steve looked nervous, almost like he might be shaking a bit.

Tony could offer him a permanent job with lots of money. Tony could do a lot of things for Steve here at Stark Industries. A few more questions, and maybe he and Steve could leave the meeting to discuss the details. They could discuss over a long lunch. At a very nice restaurant. But Tony never realized that he was broadcasting what he was thinking on his face. Everyone could figure out exactly where Tony was heading, he had a reputation for a reason, and no one wanted to be there in the room when Tony blatantly hit on Steve. And just as Tony geared up for another question, he noticed Jasper talking in a low voice to the rest of his team. Then Jasper quickly mentioned that Steve and the rest of the Maria Stark team could answer questions at a later time but that they had to leave now since time was running short. Before Tony could protest, Pepper thanked Jasper, who made a strange “call me” sign to Pepper before hustling his people out of the room. His Steve was now gone.

Tony nearly got up to follow. He certainly wanted to. But Pepper hissed at him to sit down and then commented graciously to the Board about how lovely the presentation was and did they want to approve the campaign. She made it clear to Tony with a tight grip on his arm that he was expected to stay for the rest of the meeting. Despite the delay in going after Steve, Tony consoled himself that at least now he knew where to find him.

 

Tony urgently needed to know everything about Steve. As soon as he was sprung free from the interminable Foundation meeting, he sped up to his office, locked the door, and pulled up every bit of information the Foundation and Stark Industries servers had on Steve Rogers. And he discovered that Steve had never told him one single lie about himself. Yes, Steve was an honors graduate from Empire State University. He had been an art major. His resume, thin because he was a recent college graduate, listed five exhibits he participated in. The background check showed nothing but a series of jobs as a waiter, convenience store cashier, and delivery man. The rest of the documents told Tony what he already knew about Steve -- that he was smart, dedicated, hard-working, and a very talented artist. Steve had even told Tony his real name, well, except for omitting a last name. Tony now had all the information he needed to find Steve – even the number of the company-issued StarkPhone and his company email address. 

Tony felt like a complete and utter ass. 

He spent the rest of the afternoon staring out over the city, a drink in his hand. He longed to call Steve, to beg to see him, to beg for forgiveness. He would give or do anything to see that joy in Steve’s eyes from before when they used to meet up. That had been missing from Steve when he saw him at that meeting. It felt like a punch to his gut, knowing now the extent of what he had lost. 

Pepper knocked furiously on the door. He knew it was Pepper because he had ignored her increasingly frantic and threatening texts and calls all afternoon. But Tony also knew he had to let her in eventually because she was damnably persistent and would not let up.

Once she was in the office, she drew a sharp breath and then launched into him. “What the hell is going on here? I’ve spent the past three hours reassuring the Maria Stark people that you aren’t crazy and aren’t plotting to do something unspeakable to their prize artist. And we’ll be damn lucky if Rogers doesn’t file a lawsuit against you.”

“That bad?” Tony asked dully, staring out the windows.

Pepper drew herself together to contain her visible anger. “You have no idea! Tony, you stared at that poor boy like a starving dog eyeing the last bone on earth.”

Tony looked over at her and rolled his eyes. “Really. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Tony, I was there! I swear if you didn’t have a shred of decency, you would have dragged Steve off to do, uh, something to him in a closet or something like that. That’s what everyone thought.”

Pepper should really give him more credit. He would have taken Steve to his _penthouse_ , not the nearest office supply closet, if it came to debauchery.

“The Maria Stark people love Steve – they don’t want to lose him. And Corporate Communications has been interested in giving him some additional projects. You are going to have to apologize to a whole boatload of people to fix this.”

Tony swept his hand over his face. Yes, he was going to have to do whatever was necessary to fix this. Steve had carved out space in Tony’s life. He needed to find him, talk to him, find out if Steve wanted him as much he wanted Steve. Or if Steve even wanted him back. That last thought made Tony feel miserable.

Pepper, who had a degree in Advanced Tony Starkology, paused a minute. “My god, Tony, you know him, uh, Steve. You have to tell me. What’s going on?”

Helplessly, Tony told her the whole story, well, most of it. He left out the details about the sex (and how hot it was!). And he tried to put the best possible spin on the whole sequence of events. Of course, now that the story was out, Tony could see that he did not look good at all. He had not thought that he had treated Steve like he was a booty call. Is that how it looked to everyone else?

Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Let me get this straight. You met Steve at a club. You liked him a lot. You rented a private room and hired him to wait on you and then hit on him at his workplace. Then gave him a completely inappropriate gift which made him feel like a ... prostitute. And when he tried to give you the money back, you called him a liar, implied his services could be bought, and accused of him of scamming you for money.”

“Yeah. That about covers it.”

“Oh my god, Tony. This is a real mess. No wonder Steve wanted to jump out of the window when he saw you at the meeting.”

“He did? I didn’t notice.”

“Why I am not surprised?” Pepper pulled up a chair and put her hand over Tony’s. “Well, what do you want now?” she asked calmly.

“Steve,” Tony answered honestly.

“You have excellent taste, Tony. Steve seems like a great guy and is real easy on the eyes. But you’ve dug yourself a deep hole this time, and I have no idea if you can get yourself out.”

“Please, Pepper-pot? You always have the best ideas.” Tony gave her a charming smile. “You always manage to find a way to save me.” 

Pepper shook her head sadly. “Now I know why you were trying to be a good boy. But this is on you, Tony. You know Steve, not me. What does he like? What matters to him? What does he want? You have to start with Steve first and not you.”

Tony pursed his lips and looked down on his tablet at the smiling picture of Steve from his employee profile. “I can figure something out,” he said listlessly and without confidence. Otherwise, he would end up hating himself for a long, long time.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading and your encouragement!
> 
> And thanks to [Wiredoll](http://wiredoll.tumblr.com/) whose art prompted all of this.
> 
> Special thanks to my beta and fandom friend, who has been pushing me to write up some of my ideas.

Before things could get even more awkward between Tony and Steve, the Maria Stark people whisked Steve from the conference room, down to the lobby, and out to the street, where they hailed a taxi. It was a long, silent ride to the Foundation mansion. Steve was still stunned from his discovery that his Tony was the real Tony Stark. And his colleagues had no idea what to say to Steve. They had their own questions, but mostly they wondered exactly how deeply upset and offended Steve was. After all, Tony Stark made his interest blatantly clear and that he wanted to jump him if he could.

Once at the mansion, the web designer said to them, “I guess if we want something from the trustees in the future, we’ll just get Steve to ask.” They all just laughed, finally clearing the air of tension.

“Wow, that meeting is going in the history books,” Patel the graphic designer said. He added, “Sorry about that, Steve. Tony Stark can be like that. He can be kind of intense and something of an ass at the same time.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve said. 

Jasper said, “I don’t know if you were planning to stay this afternoon, Steve, but if you could stick around until this is cleared up …”

“Sure,” Steve said. He texted Bruce about rescheduling lunch, wondering if he had already heard about what happened at the meeting.

Steve decided he was going to forget what had happened at the meeting. Except his various colleagues kept coming by to check on him in his cubicle. And they all had a Tony story to share, about Tony in meetings, in the lobby of the Stark building, at the various coffee machines around the Tower, when he visited the Stark Foundation, at conferences, and at business trips. Steve enjoyed hearing the stories. Tony was clearly a very intelligent and funny man. But Steve was not expecting to hear how caring Tony was, how involved he was in his business, how much research and development he did, and what type of charity work he did. Not that any of that had ever stopped Tony from being irreverent and snarky or saying obnoxious things or acting out on occasion. 

In the early afternoon, after Steve fielded an inquiring phone call from Tony’ assistant, Pepper Potts, Mary, the head of PR, dropped by Steve’s cubicle. “So, I’ve heard you had an interesting morning.”

Steve just nodded.

“Are you okay now? Because if you …”

Steve shook his head. Maybe staying to work at the office was a bad idea.

Mary continued, “We’re not trying to apologize for Tony. Or maybe we are. I hope you understand where we’re coming from. We’re sort of used to Tony, and he doesn’t usually act like that.”

Steve was not really sure what to say. Yes, he had been overwhelmed by seeing Tony and his reaction at the meeting. He was not at all sure how Tony felt about him since they lost contact after the argument at the club. Steve thought that Tony had perhaps forgotten about him and that saddened him. So he had been hopeful when he first saw Tony. What his colleagues had interpreted as lust, Steve read as surprise and anger. At least, an angry Tony would have meant that he remembered Steve.

Mary added, “If you are uncomfortable, you won’t have to go to meetings where Tony will be. And, of course, your contract with us is still secure.”

Steve had been more than a little worried about his job. If Tony hated him, he would not want Steve around working for a charity named for his mother. But there was still a little part of Steve that had calculated that he would be able to see Tony at future meetings, and hoped that maybe they would even be able to bridge the widening gulf between them. 

Mary shared her own Tony story. “The director we had before Jasper resigned to move to Paris with her husband. And Tony bought her a Lamborghini to take with her. Since she might need a car in Paris!” Mary laughed softly. “She ended up giving it to the Foundation to auction off.”

Steve perked up. “He does that?”

“All the time. If Tony likes you, he gives you extravagant gifts that are never appropriate. Last year, I managed to get a lot of good publicity for the Foundation for some recent grants for science education. Tony thanked me with a $500 certificate to a day spa.” Then she smiled conspiratorially and added, “There are rumors that he funds Pepper’s shoe addiction.”

Steve thanked her and returned to his work, turning over the information in his. Well, at least he was not alone in regards to Tony’s largesse. And he smiled to think that Tony once liked him well enough to give him a gift.

 

Two days after the Big Meeting, as he had come to think of it, Steve decided to get coffee at the shop around the corner from the Foundation. He brought along his tablet and sketch pad, planning to make an afternoon of it.

Distracted by thoughts of what he wanted to do with his latest sketches, he went to the counter to pick up his order. When he turned around, he unexpectedly bumped into Tony, who was standing there with an extra large coffee. Steve flushed. 

Tony smiled at him. “Hi there,” he ventured. Then stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Tony Stark. You are—“

“Steve Rogers.” Dumbfounded, Steve shook Tony’s hand.

“Well, gorgeous, Heaven must be missing an angel since you’re standing right here.”

Steve laughed from shock. “A cheesy pickup line? That’s the first thing you think of?”

“Hey now, I love my cheesy one-liners. It got you to laugh at least.” Tony laughed back. Then he turned serious. He looked down at the ground, then slanted his eyes up to look at Steve. “I would like to talk to you. If you’ve got time right now. And, you know, if you want to talk to me.”

Steve sipped from his coffee needing a moment to consider, feeling so mixed up. Tony was looking at him expectantly, his expression betraying a shade of vulnerability. Steve decided he should talk to Tony and figure this whole thing out. “Um, sure. I’m not expected back for awhile.”

They went to sit at a table in the far corner bathed in golden afternoon sunlight. Steve’s heart was pounding as Tony settled in the seat next to him and took off his sunglasses. Tony fiddled with the plastic cover of his coffee cup for a long time. “I don’t know where to start, but I am really, really sorry about everything,” he said finally.

Steve could hear the regret in Tony’s voice. And though time and longing had since softened Steve’s anger, Steve needed to hear an apology from Tony. “Okay.”

Tony took a deep breath and shifted a bit in his chair. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you at the club. I was angry at you for turning down my gift, which I really shouldn’t have given you in the first place, and then I made assumptions.” Steve nodded. “The assumptions were probably the worst of it. I mean, I could explain why I thought that but that’s not what you want to hear.”

“Tony, it’s not like we were on the same page.”

“Please.” Tony shook his head. “I need to get this out. My mouth isn’t wired to my brain a lot of the time. And things just didn’t come out right. I really don’t know where my head was that night. So I am very, very sorry that I said what I said and thought what I thought. If there was a way I could make it up to you, I would.” He propped his elbow on the table, and propped his fist against his mouth, looking over expectantly at Steve. 

He had missed Tony so much. “You don’t need to do anything, Tony –“

“I thought maybe I could, you know, buy you an art supply store. Just a little one? I could still do that, if you want one.”

Steve laughed. “Tony, isn’t that the sort of thing we argued about in the first place?”

“I know, I know! Pepper would say that too. But I like buying things for people, especially big things.” Tony tentatively reached for Steve’s hand. “Steve. Are we good?” he asked in a heartbreaking tone. 

Steve looked at Tony. He could see the fear and nervousness in Tony’s eyes. But if he took Tony’s hand and said everything was fine, what would he be getting himself into? The stories about Tony were outrageous, but he had heard a lot of good also about Tony. This could still end badly, but he needed to take the risk. He still wanted Tony in his life. He squeezed Tony’s hand. “We’re good.”

Tony exhaled sharply. “And I’m sorry about the other day. I had no idea you were at the meeting. Or that you were even working for the Foundation. You, um, looked very very good, Steve.”

Steve was a little floored. “When I saw you, I thought you were still angry with me.”

“Angry? No, no, no. Not since the other day. Not since the last time I saw you.” Tony drank some coffee. “Speaking of that, where have you been? I tried to call you and everything. Even went to the club and they told me you weren’t working there.”

Steve wished he had known that. He replied, “It’s a long story.”

“I have all the time in the world for you, sweetheart,” Tony said gently. He held up his phone. “See? I even turned it off.”

So Steve told him the whole story, from the rude customers to the assault to getting fired.

Tony was outraged. “That’s horrible, Steve. What a load of absolute crap. I’m sorry to hear that. Except for your phone – that piece of junk deserved to be crushed.”

“I couldn’t replace it at first. Then I lost your number.”

“That explains why you went missing. I only wish you had stayed working at that dump long enough for me to see you again. It’s okay if you got fired after that.”

“Tony!”

“You know what I mean.”

Steve did. “Actually, that’s why I didn’t think you were the actual Tony Stark. We all decided that the real Tony Stark wouldn’t have set foot in the Shield Club,” he said a little shyly.

“You were right about that. I hated that place.” Tony then told Steve the story of how he ended up coming to the club the first time. “Wait, you didn’t think I was the real Stark this whole time?”

Steve shrugged. “It kind of made sense at the time.”

They both laughed at that. And Tony shifted his body and chair so that he could lean into Steve. Steve was so happy to be sitting there in the coffee shop with Tony’s full attention. Steve told him about getting the Foundation job and what else he was doing these days.

Tony said, “When I first met you, Steve, I was in up to my neck with work. I’d just taken my company back from my dad’s ex-partner and I needed to get it on track. I wanted to see you more, but I was traveling and tied up with work and you weren’t always available.”

Steve nodded. “It was my senior year and I was busy all the time. And I needed the work.”

“I hope you don’t think I was only interested in booty calls,” Tony suggested tentatively. 

Steve caught the note of worry in Tony’s voice. “That night at the club, I wanted to ask you for something more.”

“Like a boyfriend thing?”

Steve swallowed. Even though he was now more comfortable around Tony, he was still worried that Tony might not want the same thing as he did. Although this conversation did seem to be very promising. So he jumped off the cliff entirely. “Yes, I do want that, a boyfriend thing.”

They had been sitting and talking so long that it was now late afternoon. Tony said, “Since this is a boyfriend thing, we should get dinner. I know a great Italian place. Let’s go. ”

Tony had driven himself to the Foundation in hopes of meeting Steve. So it was just the two of them in Tony’s Lotus on the way to dinner. Even though Tony teased Steve about his asceticism and poor choices in transportation, he did notice how Steve’s eyes popped looking over the car’s fantastic curves. It gave Tony ideas, very good ideas.

Dinner was long and leisurely. As Tony pushed around the pasta on his plate, Steve finally asked why he had not come by Steve’s apartment when he could not contact Steve.

Tony replied, “Oh, that could’ve made things much worse, Steve. I thought you were avoiding me and possibly even quit your job so you wouldn’t see me again. I thought you’d call the police on me. I couldn’t mail you anything or drop you a note or something because I didn’t know your last name. And I thought maybe I didn’t have your real first name either.”

“I didn’t tell you? Thought I had.” Steve pondered his dessert for a moment. Then he said, “What surprised me is that you could ever have thought I wasn’t an artist. You’ve been in my apartment and I thought you saw my set-up.”

“To be precise, I’ve only been in your bedroom and I never really looked around except for the bathroom. And I didn’t exactly turn on the lights when I left early in the morning.” Tony stole some of Steve’s dessert. “You’re really good, Steve, at the art thing.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, Tony.”

They stood close and held hands while waiting for the valet. Steve was full of anticipation since Tony had already asked him back to Tony’s apartment. He had always wanted this with Tony. And Tony was practically vibrating with happiness, so he could tell that Tony wanted this too, the whole boyfriend thing.

If Steve had been impressed with the Stark Tower lobby, he was blown away by Tony’s penthouse apartment in the Tower. Tony showed him around with pride, pointing out the New York landmarks one could see from Tony’s panoramic, wrap-around windows. The kitchen and dining room had to be larger than Steve’s whole little apartment, and were filled with luxury, high-end appliances and fixtures. “I’ll show you the workshop in the morning. You’ve wanted to see my robots for a while now.”

Tony offered to pull up a movie on his huge television and they settled on the couch, tangled up in each other. As Steve’s hand carded through Tony’s hair, Tony’s head leaning on Steve’s shoulder, Tony said quietly, “I really want this to work, Steve. So you should know I talk an awful lot and I’m a workaholic. And I don’t listen too well.”

“I’ve heard all the stories, Tony. I’ve got my faults too, you know.” Steve kissed the top of Tony’s head. “I think we’ll do okay if we actually tell each other stuff, and no lies or accusations.”

“That works,” Tony sighed contentedly. “But enough with the talking.” And he lifted his head to kiss Steve back as a hint that they should go to bed. Tony stood up and took Steve’s hand to lead him upstairs to the bedroom.

Kissing and touching all the way to the biggest bed Steve had ever seen, they took their time undressing and learning about each other. Steve had never felt so free to do what he wanted with Tony. And he took advantage of the size of the bed, of Tony’s suggestions and enthusiasm, and of wanting to please Tony. It was all laughter and smiles and mutual passion. Tony wanted Steve to top. Steve gasped how hot Tony looked, how much he loved how Tony made him feel, and how he felt about Tony. Steve felt profoundly connected to Tony. Afterwards, they curled up in each other’s arms and talked about everything and nothing until they drifted into sleep.

And in the morning, when Steve woke up, the first thing he saw was Tony smiling at him. Tony bent down to kiss him and said, “Good morning, sunshine.”

“Good morning.” Steve was warm and still sleepy but open to suggestions.

“You look amazing,” Tony added. “I have no idea how you can look so beautiful after all your hard work from last night. I must be one lucky guy to have landed you.”

Steve smiled. “You’re lucky? I’m the lucky one.”

Tony stretched out and drew Steve close. “I’d suggest ordering in breakfast. But I don’t want to move at all.” Steve did not want to move either. He nestled against Tony’s chest and shoulder. He felt loved and wanted.

After a while of lying there, while Tony carded his hand through Steve’s hair, Tony said, “Babe, I was just wondering if you still had the uniform, especially the red one.”

Steve chuckled. “No, sorry, I lost custody of it when I stopped working at the club.” Tony made a sad sound and Steve reached over to squeeze Tony’s arm. “I think I know where I could order one though, for a special occasion,” he teased. 

And there would definitely be many more special nights and days with Tony in his future, so he needed to be prepared. Steve thought he could pass on the fluffy tail, though. The darn thing never stayed on straight.


End file.
